Shadow
by WishingOnMyStar
Summary: The events of Alcatraz Island have pushed the goverment into passing the Mutant Registration act. Sixteen-year old mutant, Megan Miles, stands in line, anxious about what will happen now that she is forced to reveal herself to the world...
1. Chapter 1: The Beginning

**A/N: Some characters and concepts are property of Marvel Comics or whoever created them in the first place. Point is, no copyright infringement intended.**

Chapter 1: The Beginning

As I stood in the registry line, I couldn't help but feel worried. This new law had just come into effect, but it'd been under debate for two years! The Mutant Registration Act. After the events with Magneto that had been all over the news, I wasn't surprised really. After the destruction he caused in San Francisco, it was probably warranted. Still, I was scared. With the registration of mutants, would I lose my friends? They didn't know I could quite possibly be the best ninja/spy ever. They didn't know that with a simple bit of concentration, I could disappear before your eyes. I could turn myself invisible and you would never be able to find me unless I wanted you to. But not only could I become invisible. When in that state, nobody could hear a single sound I might make. The only way to know I was there was by running into me. And I was especially careful _that_ didn't happen.

That was probably why the humans were so afraid of us. Because so many of us could do things that would threaten the law. I'm only sixteen, but I could probably sneak into the Oval Office if I set my mind to it. Not that I ever would! But still. There are some people out there who would. And those are the people who the humans are afraid of. People like Magneto and his Brotherhood.

My friends and I had watched the fight on the news. It took place at Alcatraz, just across the harbor from our homes. The Golden Gate Bridge, a national icon, was still stuck where Magneto had moved it to get at the cure. The cure. It was supposed to be the answer to all the mutant problems. _I_ had never considered it, but a lot of people had. They'd lined up on the street outside of the Worthington Labs. We had to pass it on our walk to school. It had been almost two blocks long! I didn't even know there were that many mutants.

The line moved forward. The guy in front of me had tried to strike up a conversation earlier. He was in his thirties, late ones I think. He was married and his son stood in front of him. The man didn't have a mutation. The boy was more interesting though. He could change his substance, becoming like smoke. He was fourteen, and therefore not as in control of his ability. The boy's hand had almost blown away once already in the wind. After the father had coached his son towards substantiality, he turned around to me with a smile.

"So, what can you do?" the man asked, attempting polite conversation.

I wasn't sure if I should tell him. Since I'd gotten this power, it's been a complete secret, to everyone except my parents. But now that mutants had to register, I guess secrecy didn't matter anymore. Everyone would find out soon enough.

"I can turn invisible," I replied. It was the most basic explanation of my ability.

"That's interesting," the man said. "Do you know what class you are?"

"No," I replied. I did know mutations were broken up by class, five being the highest, and one being barely enough to be considered a mutation. Before now, you'd have to find someone who could sense powers to tell you what class you would be considered. But I heard they tell you when you register. Fives are kept on special watch. They said that the girl who'd destroyed Alcatraz and almost an entire battalion of soldiers had been a class five. If that was true, I didn't blame them for wanting to keep an eye on all of them.

"My son, Connor, here is a class three." He smiled down at Connor. That had made me even more uneasy, and a little sad. My parents, though they didn't say anything, obviously didn't like the fact that I was a mutant. But this man seemed too _like_ having Connor be a mutant. He was _proud_ of him. I wished my parents could be more like that.

That's when I'd gone invisible. It had been one of the few times since I'd gained control that I'd done so. The problem was I was wearing synthetic clothing, so it didn't disappear with me. I could affect natural cloth more easily then I could synthetic. If I absolutely wanted to, I could disappear regardless of what I wore. But synthetic fiber wouldn't disappear with me if it was an accident, like now.

So there I stood, seemingly just a rain jacket and pair of sweatpants. My t-shirt had disappeared with me. The man glanced back with a smile and froze.

"Uh…hello?" I looked at him.

"Yes?" I asked. But he didn't hear me. He just kept staring at me; well more at my neck. That's when I realized he couldn't see me. I refocused again, thinking about the most substantial, impregnable things that came to my mind. A brick wall, the feel of the rough, red bricks as I ran my fingers over them. Or maybe a concrete bunker. The ground was always a good one, especially when it is layered over with black top.

"Oh, there you are!" the man smiled. "You're back!"

I just nodded, hoping that he'd get the message that I didn't want to talk right now. Thankfully, he did and I was left, as I was now, with my own thoughts. I wondered, not for the first time, what my friends would think. Would they still be my friends? I'd known Allie and Christine since I was five, but finding out your best friend had been keeping such a huge secret from you could really ruin a friendship, really fast. And it's not like this secret doesn't really matter. I mean, they made a new _law_ because of this sort of secret.

I finally moved inside the registration building. The registration was housed at City Hall, where voters came on Election Day. I'd never been there before. I wasn't old enough to vote. And honestly, I didn't care what the room looked like. Ahead, they'd set up a table where people were being divided among eight stations where secretaries sat with computers and a big machine. It looked like they were only letting by people who'd demonstrated their mutant abilities. I could see a woman who kept shifting into different birds waiting in the line closest to the table.

The father and son in front of me stepped up to the table.

"Mutants only past this point," the bored secretary who sat at the table intoned. "Please demonstrate your mutation."

I watched as Connor's bottom half disappeared in smoke. He looked like the Genie from Aladdin.

"Alright," the secretary said. Not even Connor's show had impressed her. I wondered if _anything_ did. "You may pass. But you have to stay here," she told the father. He nodded and gave his son a little nudge forward.

"I'll be right out here son," he assured the boy.

"Station two," the lady said, gesturing to a line behind her. All eight were labeled with a number placard, where the end of the line was.

Connor rematerialized completely and walked to the line marked two.

"Next," called the lady at the table. It wasn't really necessary. I was standing right there. Still, I stepped up.

"Hi," I said.

"Please demonstrate your mutation."

"Alright," I shrugged. This time, instead of concentrating on something solid and substantial, I concentrated on blending in, sinking into the background. This time, even my synthetic clothing disappeared.

The lady cocked an eyebrow my way. "Alright," she said. "Station eight."

"Thank you," I said, and then realized I was still invisible and she therefore couldn't hear me.

"Are you still there?" the lady asked hesitantly. I reappeared again in reply.

"Yes."

"Oh, uh, you can go to station eight."

"Thank you."

I marched through, deciding to have a little bit of fun. I started making random patches of my skin and clothing invisible, creating an interesting, shimmering effect. I felt all eyes on me and for the first time since I'd found this ability, I liked it. Usually I enjoyed being totally invisible, able to blend in anytime, anywhere. But for some reason I wanted to be the center of attention.

'_You are quite good,'_ a voice said. I spun on my toe, looking around for the speaker. But nobody was there.

'_Easy Meg,_' I told myself. _'It's probably some mutant.'_

'_You are a good guesser too,'_ the voice said. It was male for sure, not an unpleasant tone at all.

'_Thank you,'_ the voice said to my last thought.

'_Get OUT OF MY HEAD! If you want to talk, do it like a normal person.'_

'_Alright, meet me outside City Hall, at the nearest intersection.'_

'_Fine,'_ I replied. There was no answer. I had to assume he'd left me. Thank God! I stopped my show and stood in line, patiently waiting for the people in front of me to be registered. I watched the process three times before it was my turn.

First they took down basic information like your name, age, DOB, address, phone number, social security number, etc. Then all of it was listed in a database of mutants, along with a description of what you could do and any known weaknesses, all of which you were required to report by law. Then you were issued a heavy-duty black band. It held a personal barcode that would give police and anyone else with access to the mutant database all the information you provided by scanning it. They also claimed that it contained a tracking signal that would allow you to be found easily. I wasn't sure if the tracking signal was true, but who was going to try it?

The final piece of information was a state-issued "codename" that also went on the band, underneath the barcode. The 20-year old girl in front of me got the name "Polar" for her ability with extreme cold, ice, and snow. I had an odd curiosity about what codename _I_ would receive. Honestly, I didn't know why I cared, after all it wasn't like that would be my name, but I was interested in what other people might think of my ability and I think by learning this codename, I would get a glimpse into a human's mind. If it was a soft name, they didn't take me seriously. If it was a rough name, they either feared me, or thought of me as beneath them because I was a mutant.

I stepped up to the table, ready to answer the battery of questions that I knew would assail me in a moment.

"Name?"

"Megan Miles."

"Age?"

"16."

"Date of Birth?"

"March 15th."

"Address…" It went on and on, just a rapid-fire question and answer session. I figured they went through this so fast so that you didn't have time to lie. Not even the best liar could say all this stuff without making a major fumble at least once.

Finally they got through the basic information and moved on to my ability. "Please describe your mutation."

I'd listened to how the others described theirs and went through the lists they'd stuck to.

"I have no distinguishing traits, except perhaps being completely average." It was true. "Everything about my features is average. Brown hair, brown eyes, slightly tan skin, five feet five inches, 130 pounds, and so on. Before my ability revealed itself, I'd had light blue eyes and wavy black hair. But as my mutation set in, my hair lightened and my eyes darkened and I haven't been able to change any of it. I can't tan, but I also can't get any paler. Everything about me, even when I'm not using my ability, is meant to blend in."

The secretary behind the computer looked up. "Interesting. And what exactly is your ability?"

"In the most basic sense, I turn invisible. But it's a bit more complicated then that. When I'm invisible, not only can nobody see me, nobody can hear me, and nobody has yet to feel as if something is there. You know, when you feel like someone's watching you, but you can't see them? Nobody has felt that with me. And I've tested it a lot. The only way anyone has ever been able to find me is by my standing completely still while they ran into me."

"That is quite a skill," the woman commented, making frantic notes. She kept speaking as she typed. "I'm going to send you on to a specialist," she told me. "Just a sort of second level. I think they might have some interest in you." She hit the "Enter" key and a paper was spit out of the printer. She handed it over to me. "Take this and go through that door, over there. Go down the hallway, it's the last door on the left." She gestured to an unmarked door to the right of the station, at the end of the room. A huge guard stood watch in front of the door, hands folded menacingly in front of him.

"Are you sure?" I asked, a bit nervous. Maybe I'd said too much if they were interested in me. I didn't want to be interested in. That's not what is supposed to happen. I'm supposed to blend in.

"Just show the guard the paper and you'll be fine," the lady assured me. Obviously she thought my nervousness was a result of the hulking guard in front of the door.

I took a few tentative steps forward, looking from the guard, back over my shoulder to station eight, and then around the room. Really, only the people in the line for eight were watching me. Everyone else was preoccupied. I picked up my pace, trying to come off as more confident. Soon I found myself standing face to stomach (my head only reached to about his chest) with the guard. Quickly I handed him the paper, which he read over carefully. Then he stepped aside and opened the door, holding it for me.

He didn't say a word, just handed the paper back to me as I walked through the unmarked door. The hallway beyond was just as boring. It was obviously an office area with doors on either side. But the name cards had been removed from all the doors. They were now just as ordinary as the door I'd just passed through.

'_Now which one did she say? Something on the left.'_ I walked down the hallway, pausing before each door. One, two, three, four, five. Five total on each side. I settled on the last, vaguely recalling something about it. _'I think she said last door on the left.'_ Taking a guess, I knocked on the door, the typical series of three short taps. I probably could've been more interesting about it, but that just wasn't me anymore.

"Come in." A voice said. I turned the handle (the door was surprisingly unlocked) and opened it carefully, not making a squeak. Inside was a dull office with a big desk, two interview chairs, and yet another computer. No personal photos or college degrees hung on the walls, nor was there any indication that they ever _hung_ on the wall. Sitting behind the desk was a man in a black suit with a sort of pale green tie. The green tie was probably the most interesting thing in the entire room. The man was middle-age, obviously some sort of government employee. He wore an ID badge, but it was turned around so I couldn't read it.

Behind him stood another man, this one probably in his late twenties, early thirties, dressed in another suit, this time with no tie. He stood motionless, just behind the man at the desk, hands folded in front of him. I immediately could've told you who was in charge, even if they had both been standing. The man with the green tie radiated authority, while the man behind him said "subservient". I noticed the black band on his left wrist, the same kind that was being handed out in the larger room I'd just left. The standing man was a mutant, like me, but not the one sitting at the desk.

I laid the paper on the desk, sliding it towards the man with the green tie (I still didn't know his name so I thought of him as "Green Tie") and waiting like I'd done all day so far. I'd stood outside since 7 a.m. to get registered, it was now 2 p.m. My stomach rumbled as I thought about the lunch I'd skipped waiting in line.

Green Tie read over the paper, his eyes darting back and forth. They were grey. I watched their progress down the page as he read all about me and my mutation. Finally, after a solid ten minutes, he sat back in the chair.

"That's quite something," he said. I couldn't help but wonder if everyone working in registration was chosen for their complete indifference. So far, the person who's shown the most emotions all day has been the father who stood with Connor in front of me.

"What do you think Tom?" The man behind Green Tie finally moved. He unfolded his hands and stepped forward, staring at me. Then, he _talked_.

"I would say she's a class four. Not dangerous enough to keep constant watch over, but definitely one to keep an eye on."

"I agree," Green Tie stated. They sounded like they were talking about a dog or something. I just wanted to shout at them "I _am_ a _person_ you know!" But I stayed silent, listening to their exchange.

"Her skills could come in handy," Green Tie said to Tom. I was used to hearing people talk about me like I wasn't there. Most times, they didn't _know_ I was there.

"True," Tom said. "But she's young and inexperienced yet. I think a bit more time and control would be to hers and our benefit."

Green Tie considered his words, and then nodded. "Alright. We'll wait until she's twenty-one. Drinking age." He scribbled something on the paper, and then laid it aside in a manila envelope, before pulling out a slip and scribbling some more. He handed it to me, but I couldn't read a word he'd written. He had doctor's handwriting, a jumbling of letters that either ran into each other or was disconnected; they didn't look like words.

"Take this back to the station and they'll tell you what to do," Green Tie said. He gestured to Tom, who walked around the desk and escorted me out.

We walked down the hallway in silence. Something about Tom made me nervous. He could sense others' mutations. Did that mean he could sense me even when I was invisible?

'_Yes.'_ The voice was back, which both annoyed and intrigued me. It had answered my question about Tom. I looked over at him. He actually looked a lot like I did, before my ability developed. Dark hair, sky blue eyes, and a peachy skin tone. A thin line ran from his left hair line, down his temple, to his cheekbone. It looked like a long-healed scar. I made a mental not of it, as well as a more recent injury on his neck and the crooked nose that was a telltale sign of a break.

'_You are very observant.'_

'_Tom?'_ I guessed silently.

'_Correct.'_

'_So you're psychic?'_

'_In the same way you can turn invisible.'_

'_So there's more to it.'_

'_Correct again.'_ We'd paused now, continuing our silent conversation just before the door with the guard beyond it.

'_Why did you want me to meet you outside?'_

'_Because you wouldn't talk to me like this. Listen there isn't much time. I've helped you as much as I could in delaying them, but you don't want to work for these people. They can only track you if they scan the barcode.'_ He held up his left hand and pointed to the band at his wrist. _'Don't let them. You can disappear better then anyone else. Do so, and keep on the move. It's like being invisible. Stay too long in one place and they can run into you, understand?'_

I didn't really, but what he was saying was easy enough. Basically, get off the radar and stay off. Definitely something I could do. So I nodded.

"Good," Tom said aloud. I was struck by how different his two voices were. His speaking voice was deeper, and scratchier. Tom smiled. "I will find you as soon as I can and explain everything. I promise."

I nodded. I trusted him. Thus far, he hadn't told me to do anything I wouldn't already do naturally.

Tom knocked once, then twice quickly, and opened the door. The guard had stood aside. The room beyond was still crowded and bustling. Tom walked me back to station eight. We waited a moment as the secretary finished with the older man before Tom stepped forward, taking the slip from my hand. He murmured to her, handing her the slip. The woman listened and nodded, before typing on her computer and then, after a loud 'thunk' from the big machine behind her, handed Tom a black band.

He pulled me out of the way. "Alright," he said in a hushed tone. I could barely hear him above the din. "Your codename is 'Shadow', and I reregistered you to a fake address so you could still go home without them implicating your family. Alright?" As he spoke he took my left wrist, pulling my jacket sleeve up, and clipped on the black band. I'd watched him close the clip, but I couldn't even figure out how it would open again.

"Remember, lay low and stay off the radar. You can go home, but don't expect to stay there too long, ever. Now may be a good time to start distancing yourself from your family, unless you want them involved. Friends you'll need on your side to help you along the way, but don't ever tell them where you're going in case they prove untrustworthy. Got it?"

I nodded. "I think so," I told him. I shook my jacket sleeve down over the new band around my wrist.

"I have to go," Tom said, looking back at the door with the guard. "Mr. Landers will be wondering where I got to." I assumed Mr. Landers was 'Green Tie', the man in charge. "Good luck." He nudged me towards the exit and headed back towards the guarded door.

I walked out the exit line and back out the same doors I'd entered in. The sun was just beginning to set. The line didn't seem any shorter now then when I'd stood in it. If anything, it seemed longer. Police were now patrolling it, keeping people back against the building, out of the way of the pedestrians trying to walk down the sidewalk. I was happy I was through, but nervous about the whole exchange. Tom had said as long as they didn't scan me, they couldn't find me. Unconsciously, I tugged my jacket sleeve down further and began the walk home. On the way, I felt exposed. The band on my wrist told everybody I was a mutant. Although I could see that it was tucked under my jacket sleeve, I felt like everybody was staring at my left wrist now, as if they could see the obtrusive band through my jacket. I turned down an alley and, making sure nobody was looking, went invisible again. Immediately I felt better and I continued walking.

**A/N: Hey tell me what you think of this story. If I don't get at least ten good comments, I'll take it that you guys don't really like it and I won't bother continuing.**

**-Wish**


	2. Chapter 2: Reactions

Chapter 2: Reactions

When I got home, my parents wanted to know how registration went. I showed them the black band and the barcode, but didn't mention anything about Tom or Mr. Landers's plan for me. They nodded as I told them about standing in line and all the information I was supposed to give and how the band worked.

"I'm sure it's fine," my mother said. "This is just for safety. Especially after what happened on Alcatraz."

Alcatraz again. Everything nowadays seemed to boil back down to what happened on Alcatraz. They said Magneto was shot with a cure weapon and lost his mutation and that he had disappeared. Personally, I wanted to find him, just to yell at him. It was his stupid move that killed any chance us other mutants had of living a normal life. Did he really think Alcatraz would go well?

"Yeah," I replied, keeping my feelings on all of this pent up inside. My parents wouldn't understand anyway.

"And you can go back to school now that you're registered," she added.

I groaned. The law said any unregistered mutant couldn't have a job or attend any sort of schooling. That's why I'd been standing outside all day to be registered, so that tomorrow (a Tuesday) I could go back to school.

My mom chuckled. She thought I was groaning from the thought of going back to school after what she would consider a "free day". But really, I was groaning at the thought of facing my classmates. On one hand, it would be interesting to see who had black bands now and who was out of school, either standing in line to be registered or on the run. I didn't think there were too many mutants, but my school was big. There were almost eight hundred kids in my junior year alone! There would have to be more mutants. Maybe we would form a club. A sort of "outcast" group. I plodded upstairs with the thought in my head.

I had an email from each of my friends, asking where I was. They wanted to know if I was sick. Briefly, I considered saying yes, and hoping I could hide the band tomorrow. But after looking at it again, I resigned myself to the fact that it was too big to hide. That was probably on purpose! I decided to just tell them I would explain tomorrow. I prayed that they would understand.

The next day I got ready for school early. Our high school started at the ridiculously early time of 7:30 am. That meant getting up at 6 to get ready and eat breakfast, and then walking the twenty minute walk to school, getting there just in time. That day, I couldn't sleep later then 5 and started getting ready an hour early. There wasn't any outfit to pick out, since we had to wear ugly blue, white, and grey uniforms (this is a public school too!), so I decided to make myself a big breakfast. Three jumbo, chocolate-chip pancakes with a side of bacon and orange juice. But my stomach was in a knot and I ended up giving it all but the orange juice to my little brother.

He was in seventh grade, not yet at the puberty stage. I knew my parents were worried that he would turn out to be a mutant too. Both of them were careful to keep all mention of mutations away from Alex. They were careful not to express their concerns about him being a mutant too when we were around. But when your daughter can turn invisible, you'd think you'd be a bit more careful about private conversations. I'd witnessed quite a few about both me _and_ Alex that they hadn't wanted us to hear.

Alex shoveled down two of the pancakes and all the bacon (Alex loves bacon), before we had to start off. Alex went to the middle school a block from the high school. His uniform was a maroon color, white, and grey and he walked down the street with his friend from the house next door, talking loudly. At least _one_ of us was happy. With every step the knot in my stomach twisted tighter. A lump in my throat was practically choking me. A million scenarios flashed through my brain, a great deal of them dealing with my friends rejecting me for what I was. Each step towards school brought forth more insecurities, threatening to drown me. But Alex didn't seem to notice anything wrong with his sister.

I dropped him and his friend off and continued on. I briefly considered going invisible for at least the free time between classes. Nobody could talk to me too much _during_ class. But I rejected that stupid idea. I couldn't avoid my friends forever. I just had to deal with it.

So before walking up the steps to the school, I hiked up my navy blue knee socks, smoothed out my ugly blue, grey, and white plaid skirt, and tugged my white, uniform polo shirt down. The band itched on my wrist as I climbed the front steps and walked inside the front doors.

I'd half expected to be assailed with rotten vegetables as soon as I walked in the door. I had a vivid imagination. But nothing happened at all. Nobody even glanced in my direction as I walked down the hallway past them. I made it to my locker without meeting anyone I knew. I was even able to switch my books and was about to take off my jacket. But I paused, unsure. What if I _was_ to only mutant in the school?

Covertly, I looked around, my eyes falling to the left wrists of everyone in the hallway. Most were free of the black bands. But I did see two, on the arms of two guys walking my way. They were talking quietly, looking around. A few students looked at their wrists, but most ignored them. The sight of this last fact made me feel a bit better. If some people didn't care, then maybe I wouldn't be a complete freak.

So I pulled off my jacket and hung it up in my locker. The band was on display for all to see and know that I was a mutant. The word was out, and nobody cared.

Well a few people moved away a bit when they saw it, but the two boys I'd seen seemed to be interested in me now. They made their way across the traffic (it might be a good thing that some traffic parted for you) and stopped on either side of my locker.

"Hi," the taller one said. "Name's Hammer. That's Spine." He nodded to the smaller boy on my opposite side. Obviously they were using the codenames given to them at registration. And obviously they expected me to tell them mine.

"Shadow," I replied.

"Shadow?" Spine repeated. "What can you do?"

I held up my hand, or where my hand was. Really, it looked like just a sleeve. Hammer and Spine stared down at it a moment, unsure.

"You go invisible!" Spine exclaimed suddenly. Hammer rolled his eyes at him as if saying "No duh!".

"Correct." I held back the snort as I thought about how much I sounded like Tom.

"Wow. What class are you?" Hammer didn't _look_ excited. He looked suspicious and he seemed more prodding.

"Three," I lied. It wasn't a _big_ lie. Three was just one level below my real one. But a class three mutant was more common than a four.

"I thought they would've gone higher," Spine remarked.

"What can you guys do?" I asked, looking back and forth between Hammer and Spine. They grinned.

"Well Spine won't demonstrate his because he'd like to keep his uniform," Hammer said. "But think of a stegosaurus and you've got Spine." Spine nodded.

"What about _you_?" I asked Hammer.

Hammer smirked. "Watch." He produced a piece of cement from his pocket. I wondered if he carried pieces in cases like now, when people asked what he did. He laid it in his open palm and brought his other fist down in a swift motion. There was a crack and when Hammer removed his fist, all that remained was a small pile of dust and a few tiny pebbles.

"Nice one," Spine told him, giving him a five. Hammer emptied his hand into a trash can and dusted the rest off on his pant leg.

"Pretty cool huh?" he asked.

"Yeah," I replied. Personally I thought it was rather thuggish, and Spine seemed like a lackey to puff up Hammer's ego. I didn't like these two. And I was happy when the warning bell rang to get to class.

"I gotta go," I told them, closing my locker and hurrying off before either of them could say anything. I got in my Chemistry class just in time to slip into my seat in the back without much notice. The teacher talked about transition metals as I dutifully took notes (I was mercifully right-handed). None of my friends were in my Honors Chemistry class. They didn't like science like I did. Then again, none of them had the same reason to be interested in science like I did. Although biology last year was a better course for me to take. Especially the genetics and DNA chapter. After that I did a bit of research and learned that the mutant gene is passed through the father's genes.

My friends finally caught up with me after chemistry. Allie and Christine immediately started chattering on about a fight that had broken out during lunch the day before.

"You totally missed it!" Christine finished.

"Yeah where were you yesterday?" Allie asked. "You didn't answer our emails. Were you sick?"

I guess they hadn't caught sight of my wrist, or had noticed the width some of the students gave us.

"Uh no," I said. I watched their faces closely through the next part. "I had to go register," I admitted, holding up my other arm.

At first they didn't seem to understand. So I gave them a hint. I turned just my hand and wrist invisible so that the band seemed to float in midair. Christine gasped. Allie spun in almost a complete circle looking to see if anyone else noticed. Nobody did of course. It wasn't like what I did was all _that_ noticeable. Not as much as what some people could do.

"You're…you're…" Christine seemed speechless. Allie grabbed my visible hand and Christine's elbow and towed us into the nearest girls' bathroom. Once inside, Christine made sure the stalls were empty and then Christine finally seemed to get her voice back.

"You're a _mutant_?" Christine hissed. I'd thought she would yell, but surprisingly she was the quiet one.

"Why didn't you tell us?!" Allie demanded.

"I couldn't," I insisted. "Would you have if you were in my position?"

"What do you mean you couldn't? We're your friends! Or at least, I _thought_ we were!" Allie's words hurt me. They were straight out of my worst nightmares since I'd found out I would have to reveal my mutation.

"_No,_" I whispered. I hadn't meant to say it out loud, but I had, and Allie had heard.

"What do you mean '_no'_?" She asked incredulous.

I knew better then to lie at the moment. "I was afraid that this would happen when I found out we had to register," I explained. "I was afraid you wouldn't be my friends anymore, because you knew I was a mutant."

"Why would you _think_ that?" Christine asked. She'd been silent while Allie had ranted. Now she spoke in a calm voice, the same calm Christine that had been there all those years.

I thought back to when we'd listened to news of the mutant attacks on the television. My friends had reacted in much the same ways they were reacting now. Christine had been silent, brooding. Allie had been outwardly angry about the attacks, which was perhaps the reason why I was so afraid of telling _her_ specifically.

"Well when we watched the attacks…on the news…I just thought—"

"You thought we would be angry with you like we were with them?" Allie finished. "Well guess what, you were right. If you we really our friend, you would have trusted us enough to tell us something of this importance!"

I winced. But Allie seemed only vindicated by my reaction.

"But I guess you _mutants_," (She spat out the word like it was vomit); "don't need friends do you? You can just _make_ people do what you want. Threaten them right? Or take over their minds?"

I had the stupid thought that Allie had been watching too many science fiction movies at her last comment. It was completely irrational. I wasn't any different now that they knew then I had been three minutes ago when they hadn't known yet. I wished that they would see that.

"Well you know what? I'm not going to wait for you to do that to me," Allie said. "Stay away from me! Come on Christine." Allie turned on her heel and started for the door to the girls' room.

But Christine didn't follow her. To my relief, she stayed put, looking between Allie and me, uncertainty written across her face.

"Christine?" Allie paused as well. "What are you waiting for? Come on!"

"But Allie—"

"You don't think you can actually still be _friends_ with her? She's a mutant! A freak!"

"She's not any different now then she was yesterday, or even ten minutes ago," Christine insisted.

Allie looked incredulous. "I don't believe you. You're siding with _her_?! She's not even human!"

Christine shrugged. "She's still _my_ friend Allie," Christine replied. "She's still Meg. Maybe you don't think so, but I do." Christine marched back and draped her arm over my shoulder, as if we were in middle school again and posing for a picture. My heart rose. Did I really still have a friend?

Allie glared at Christine but marched out without another word.

"You didn't have to do that," I told Christine. "You have a right to be mad. I should have told you earlier."

"I understand," Christine said. "You couldn't." She looked down at her toes. "Like I couldn't tell you about Mitch."

I was confused now. "Who's Mitch?"

"My brother," she said. "You wouldn't know him I think. He is three years older than me. He was gone before we met. He didn't even move to San Francisco with us."

"Why couldn't you tell me about him?"

"Well, he's a mutant, like you. He goes to a private school in Westchester, New York."

"No way! What can he do?" I was excited to find someone this close to me was a mutant. Or maybe I was surprised that Christine had kept a secret like a whole other brother from me for so long! You'd think _something_ would have given her away, even a tiny slip.

'_But you've always overlooked Christine, haven't you,'_ a little voice told me in my mind. This time, it wasn't a mutant like Tom. It was my own little doubt. _'Allie has always been the one who drew the most attention. Of course you wouldn't have even _noticed_ if she'd slipped up.'_

"What private school?" I asked.

"Um, something weird, with an 'X'. Uh, Xander…Xavier! Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters! Cheesy right? They almost closed it because their Headmaster or something, Professor Xavier who founded the school, he died recently. And two of the teachers, some of his original students. A tragic accident. They weren't going to keep it open. It was really sad for Mitch for a little while."

My mind wasn't on Christine's words though. It was reeling at the possibilities. Xavier's School for _Gifted_ Youngsters. Who was more gifted then the mutants? And naturally the kids whose parents weren't as accepting had to find a place to go, right? This had to be it! What a brilliant idea. A school for mutants, probably to learn how to control their abilities. I didn't need control, but I would soon need a place to go. I couldn't involve my family in something like this. Especially not Alex.

"You said it's in Westchester?"

"Right, in New York State. It's really far away, but Mitch loves it there."

I was about to ask her if she knew the address, but the bell echoed from the speaker in the bathroom. We were going to be late for class as it was.

"Listen, I'll talk to you at lunch, alright?" Christine asked.

"Yep," I replied. "See you." We went our separate ways outside the bathroom. And holding my left wrist partially behind my back, I smooth-talked my way out of the impending ten minute detention I should have gotten for being five minutes late to class.

At lunch it was Christine's turn to question me. She asked how long I'd had my mutation, and how far could I go with it, and what class I was, etc. It was almost a steady stream of questions to the point that I barely had any chance to eat my lunch. But I didn't mind. Christine was being really good about the whole thing, which was more then I could say about Allie and some of my other classmates.

Some people didn't even notice the band on my wrist, or they didn't understand what it meant. Some people noticed but, like Christine, didn't care. But a lot more people were like Allie. There were whispers behind my back as I walked down the hallways to my classes. People gave me hateful looks, like I was a puppy killer or something. They walked in a wide circle around me, or turned their back on me when I tried to say hi to them.

Some teachers were even like that. For example, in English class, if I raised my hand to give my opinion about _Macbeth_, Mrs. Parr would purposefully turn around and ask one of the other, non-mutant students. She shot me looks of disgust when she thought I wasn't looking. And the one time I actually got a chance to talk (we were in groups and she couldn't help it), she shot down what I was saying, dismissing it as "disagreeable" and later verified the same answer from a student who didn't wear a black band like me.

But Mrs. Parr's English class was only frustrating. _Gym_ class, was humiliating. It started off as the rest of my day had. I was a bit nervous because Allie was in my gym class. In the past, she'd been my partner for everything. But now that she hated me, I was left alone. Or at least, almost alone. The gym classes were big because they incorporated all four grade levels. So I was one of twelve junior girls. There were forty girls total. I probably shouldn't have felt surprised then, that there was another mutant in the group. But I was. She was just a tiny freshman girl, nervously playing with the band on her wrist as she looked around for a stretching partner. Obviously _her_ friends had abandoned her completely. They were standing off in a group of three "ignoring" her. I took pity on her, seeing her stand there in her oversized gym uniform, hunched over. She reminded me a bit of a dog, one that had been beaten and was unsure of who to trust.

I walked up to her, trying to pull off the air of confidence we upperclassmen were supposed to have. I don't really know if I succeeded or failed miserably, but I think it was the former. The little freshman looked up at me, almost _fearfully_.

"Hey," I said. "Stretch with me?" Purposefully I extended my _left_ hand to take her right. She looked down at it, then quickly back up to my face, this time with appreciation.

"Sure," she said, "Thanks!"

"No problem." We walked off to stretch in a corner, away from the main group.

"I'm Megan Miles," I said.

"Olivia Tanner," the girl replied. "But I like 'Liv'."

"And I like 'Meg'," I countered with a smile. She grinned back. "So what can you do?" I asked.

"I'm not really special. I have some telekinetic ability. Only enough to be a class two though. How about you?"

"I can turn invisible," I told Liv.

"Wow," she whispered. "You must be at least a class three then, right?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Cool."

"So did your friends not like it?" She knew what I was referring to.

"I'm not sure they were ever really my _friends_, but no, they didn't. What about yours?"

"Well the one in this class didn't. But I have another who has a mutant in the family too, so she understands."

"That's good. You're really lucky."

"Yeah."

"The worst is when the teachers treat you differently," Liv commented.

I nodded, thinking back to English class that day. Mrs. Parr's treatment had been like a slap in the face. I wondered how many of Liv's teachers had been like that.

"Alright everyone, let's choose teams!" The gym teacher, Miss Lambert, had come out of her office in the girl's locker room and was calling us all in. She was dressed in jeans and a collared shirt and held a basketball under her arm. Brilliant. I sucked at basketball.

Miss Lambert appointed Allie and a girl named Jessica to be captains. I didn't have much hope of either of them choosing me, since Allie hated _my_ guts, and Jessica was one of the friends who hated _Liv's_. They first picked their friends, then the ones they didn't really know, until only Liv and I still stood without teams. It was Jessica's turn to pick. I thought she might pick me, since she didn't really know me, but instead she turned to the gym teacher.

"Miss Lambert, we don't feel it would be fair for the mutants to play with us."

My mouth fell open and I could see Olivia's eyes widen in shock.

"Excuse me?" Miss Lambert asked.

"Since the mutants have special abilities, we don't think it would be fair for them to play with us regular humans. They could use their mutations."

All the frustration that I'd pent up from every stupid reaction to me today lashed out at my self-control. All the hurt and unfairness from Allie and the petty prejudice of Mrs. Parr and my fellow classmates burst forth from my mouth all at once.

"That's bull-shit!" I blurted out. "I can turn invisible you dumb-ass, that's not going to help my jump shot!"

Immediately after I said them, I regretted my words. My mom always told me that words were like toothpaste, easy to squeeze out, but impossible to take back in. I always thought she was being silly, but now I wished I'd kept my toothpaste in the tube.

"Megan, detention after school," Miss Lambert scolded. "That was out of line."

"_They're_ out of line! That's prejudice!" I already had detention. Did it really matter what I said anymore?

"Keep it up and it will be demerits," Miss Lambert warned.

"Meg," Liv whispered. Her voice was such a contrast from the teacher's warning tone and my angry words. "Don't. It's not worth it."

All eyes turned to Liv with her hunched shoulders and diminutive tone. "It's not worth it," she repeated.

I looked at her carefully, studying her. She had the best motives at heart. She didn't want me to get into more trouble. I decided to take her advice and hold my tongue.

"You're flickering," she said.

I looked down. Sure enough, patches of my skin were winking out of sight, sometimes taking my clothing with it. I needed to regain control. I took in a deep breath and refocused on visibility, watching as the flickering lessened, and then stopped altogether.

"Better now?" Miss Lambert asked tentatively. She and the entire class were watching me closely. My loss of control had frightened them I think, or at the very least, given them something more to gossip about.

I nodded.

"You and Liv are going to do passing and shooting together for this class, and then I'll ask about the problem later. Does that suit everyone?"

It didn't really suit me. It was still discrimination, but I already had a detention and I'd lost control. I couldn't push it anymore. So I nodded and Liv and I took another ball and went off to pass to each other and shoot on a half-court to the side.

"You shouldn't have done that," Liv said. "It will only make things worse."

"We have to stand up for ourselves," I told her, shooting from the foul line and banging off the rim. "We can't let people like those idiots push us around. We're better than them."

Liv got the ball and scored a lay-up. "Do you really think so?"

"Of course," I replied, passing the ball back to her. "If I didn't, do you really think I would've yelled like that and got myself a detention?"

"Probably not," Liv admitted. She scored another shot, this time from a bit farther away. I got the rebound and passed it to her again. Behind us, the coach's whistle blew for substitutions. Liv missed and passed me the ball.

"Not at all," I told her. I scored an easy lay-up off the left side. "I'm not usually a loud person. I just hate how people are treating us now that we have these stupid bands. We aren't any different today then we were yesterday, or even Friday. They just know more about us now."

"I think we scare them," Liv suggested. She got the ball and passed it to me. "I mean, maybe not me, but you have like superpowers. I've never seen anything like what happened when you got angry. I half expected you to go entirely."

"I won't go all the way unless I do so purposefully," I told her. "It takes more concentration for full body invisibility. Flickering like that is just what happens when I get carried away. It hasn't happened in a year, until yesterday and today." I missed the shot and gave the ball back to Liv.

"What happened yesterday?"

"It was just something in the registration line. Nothing really. Just another lapse in control." I sighed, thinking back to Connor and his dad. They'd been gone by the time I'd come back out of the back room with Tom. I hadn't even been able to say "See ya." I found after registering that I wanted to talk to the father and son duo, for some inexplicable reason.

"I can't really lapse like that," Liv admitted. "It takes a lot of concentration for me to just use my ability. I only found out because I was watching _Matilda_ and I had thought it would be cool to try. I hadn't thought I could really do it. She shrugged.

"That must've been scary," I remarked.

"Not as much as you'd think. Really I was intrigued and sort of happy that I was different from everyone else. I was somebody special, right? But then I found out that I was really only a class two mutant and that there were others out there, like you, who were even more special."

"Just the fact that you are a mutant makes you special. It doesn't matter what class you are. That's just another label that humans gave us. It's stupid really."

"But what about class fives. You saw the news right?"

I nodded, missing a shot.

"Don't you think they should know about that? She destroyed everything!"

"I guess," I muttered.

We shot on, only occasionally talking about some subjects, but our conversation never returned to mutants. It was an unspoken agreement. We just would ignore it, like we wanted everyone else to do. We had to act the same, if we wanted everyone to treat us the same.


	3. Chapter 3: Running

Chapter 3: Running

After school, I served the hour detention in the Health classroom with Miss Lambert working on her computer. Honestly I didn't see why a physical education teacher would need a laptop, but hey, they gave her one and apparently she used it. I just sat there, staring at the board where Miss Lambert had written "No Talking". There were two others in the classroom, both boys who slouched back in their chairs and stared at the ceiling or walls or the inside of their eyelids. After I got bored with staring at the board, I started to amuse myself by seeing how small a patch of skin I could make disappear. Then I tried to makes waves of invisibility on my palm.

Finally at 3:30, Miss Lambert said we could go and that she expected to not see us in detention again next week. Really she only looked at me when she said that. Apparently the other boys she expected to see quite often, perhaps every week. I left quickly and grabbed my things out of my locker before beginning my walk home. Alex would have walked with a friend when I didn't show up. He was smart and resourceful like that.

I expected to find him watching TV when I got home, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Alex?" I called through the house. It seemed deserted. Had he gotten home alright? I hadn't seen him waiting outside the school when I'd walked by on my way home. _Nobody_ had been standing outside.

There was no answer. "Alex!" I called a little louder and more forceful this time. If he was in the house, he would hear and know that he _needed_ to answer me.

"I'm up here!" He called from somewhere upstairs. His bedroom probably. I climbed the stairs two at a time and looked around for him when I got upstairs. My bedroom door was open and he sat on the floor in the doorway, back against the post. He looked shaken. His uniform was in disarray. Blood soaked his shirt. His lip was swollen and there was a bruise under his right eye.

"Alex? What's wrong?" I asked. I was careful to be gentle with my voice. He looked frightened.

"When did it happen? Your—"His voice choked off but I knew what he was referring too. We just didn't talk about it in the family. It was sort of a dirty little secret.

"When I was fourteen," I replied softly. "I was embarrassed about having to read a poem in class and as I was walking there, I disappeared. I didn't realize I had until I was bumped into. The person looked right through me…" I trailed off, looking back to Alex's expression. He was staring down at his hands as if scared of them. I had a theory as to why, but I hoped I was dead wrong.

"You didn't _hurt_ anyone, did you?"

"No," I replied. "Well, maybe the boy who ran into me, but I think he was just confused."

Again Alex looked down at his hands, except this time, he looked _ashamed_.

"Alex what happened?" I asked.

Alex looked hesitant, but he began to force out words. "I—I…I hurt him. I didn't m—mean to. I—I—It just sort of _happened._"

"How did you hurt him?" I asked calmly. I could guess where this was going and I knew from personal experience that Alex needed to work through it and come to terms with it. I would just prod him gently in the right direction.

"He was going to hurt _me_," Alex said, not really to anyone in particular. "He said he was going to crush me for telling the teacher he'd tried to cheat off my math test. He brought his friends." Alex stared off distantly, remembering the moment. I listened carefully.

"They were hurting me. They were kicking me and punching me." He pulled up the side of his shirt to reveal a huge welt across his ribs. I was worried that some had been broken. But Alex didn't seem to care about that. He just continued on with the story.

"I tried to fight back, like dad taught me. But there were _five_ of them!" He looked down at his hands again. "I grabbed one and held on tight. He started screaming and I felt his skin getting hotter. I let go. His shirt was burned through and his skin was charred underneath. He screamed when he saw it. It looked like a black, ashy handprint. It was _my_ handprint."

His hands shook and he clenched them into fists. I began to feel heat rolling off him. It felt like I was kneeling next to an open flame. I shifted away a bit, trying to be as subtle about the motion as possible.

"Alex, calm down," I told him gently. "Focus."

He looked up at me and I gasped. His eyes were bright red and orange, like fire. His fists were cherry-red, the color of hot metal.

"I can't!" He cried. "I just want to—"A flame sprung up on his shoulder. I was afraid he'd set the house on fire.

"Alex! You can! Focus on something cold. Focus on winter! On skiing and snowball fights and loads of snow and snow days. Think of ice and freeze pops and the ocean! Think of cold things!"

Alex closed his red eyes and scrunched his face up as he tried to regain focus. Slowly, his hands returned to their normal shade and temperature. The flame on his shoulder went out, leaving just burned fabric as a footprint of its existence. He began to unfurl his hands and his face smoothed again. And then, when everything was once again cool, he opened his eyes. They were once more the normal blue.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"You're welcome," I replied. I pulled him in to a hug. His skin was the normal temperature again, well perhaps a few degrees warmer. But he was new to this. "Are _you_ okay?"

Alex nodded. "I think so. I just—"

"Lost control," I finished. "It's alright. I do too sometimes. Like today, in gym class."

Alex gave me a puzzled look but I shrugged off his unspoken question. "Long story," I told him.

"I think I would have burned down the house," he murmured, "If you hadn't helped me."

I remembered my earlier thought about him and the house. "You would have gotten it back under control before then," I lied.

Alex shook his head. "No, I wouldn't have. And I'm not sure what will happen now. I hurt a boy. The police are probably coming for me."

Sure enough, the doorbell rang. We both stood at once. I noticed the wood was singed where Alex's back had been pressed against it. But I didn't think it a good idea to point it out. I led him downstairs to the door. He'd been right. An officer in navy blue stood outside the door, within view of the peep-hole.

"Stay back Alex," I told him. I waited for him to be out of sight around the kitchen corner, before opening the door.

"Can I help you Officer?" I asked politely, as if my brother had not just almost burned down the house with me in it.

"Are your parents home, young lady?" he asked.

"No sir," I replied. "Is there a problem?"

"We received a call that an unregistered mutant who lives at this address used his mutation against a boy at the school today and caused him third-degree burns."

"I'm the only mutant here Officer," I said, holding up my band. "And I can only do some invisibility. Nobody here can _burn_ anyone. Are you sure you have the right address?"

"The complaint was quite specific," the Officer replied.

"Well perhaps you could come back when my parents are home and we can get this sorted out," I suggested.

The officer looked around me to the empty house. "When will they be home?"

"Probably around six," I replied. Really they would be home around five, but I needed time to talk to them before we had to deal with the police.

"I will be back then," the police officer replied. He nodded and left. I closed the door carefully and then dashed back into the kitchen. Alex was sitting at the table, wringing his hands.

"Calm," I cautioned him. He nodded and took a deep breath.

"It's going to be hard," he said, letting out a nervous chuckle.

"That officer is coming back at six," I told him. "And I said there wasn't any unregistered mutant here, that it was just me."

"But why did you lie?" Alex asked. "They're going to find out eventually. I have to register if I'm going to school."

"Because we're leaving," I replied.

"We can't just leave. This is our _home_. Mom and Dad will be worried. Where would we go?"

"There's a safe-haven for mutants in Westchester, New York. You know my friend Christine? She has an older brother who goes there. We'll take a train or a bus or something. We can't stay here. If anything, we'll register you in another state, with a different address. We can't let mom and dad be pulled into this. Do you agree?"

Alex was hesitant, but slowly he nodded. "Agreed."

"Go pack. A couple pairs of clothes, toiletries, essentials. And take any allowance or birthday money you've got."

Alex dashed upstairs. I went into the medicine cabinet and pulled out a tin box. Inside was where mom and dad always kept some emergency cash stashed. I opened it and found four hundred bucks. That would get us there. I also had another hundred upstairs, and I think Alex had about seventy or so. I ripped out a piece of lined paper from a school notebook and grabbed a pen.

"_Dear Mom and Dad,_

_As you've probably heard by now, there was an accident with Alex at school today. It's true. We both think that it would be better for everyone if we left. Don't worry, I've got the emergency cash and we'll be really careful. We're going someplace else, but I'm not going to tell you where, in case the police find this. Just know that we'll be alright and we'll be in touch with you eventually. Know that both Alex and I love you very much, but this is how it has to be._

_Love your daughter,_

_Meg"_

I read through it again. It sounded almost like a suicide note. I'd tried to reassure them as many times as possible, but even reading through it myself, I thought it sounded cold. I couldn't say anything more about where we were going though, and I didn't have time to write out a long letter of thanks and reassurances. We had to be away as soon as possible.

I left the note in the money tin and pushed it back against the wall on the counter, like it was meant to be there. My parents would know it wasn't, but someone outside of the family wouldn't. I was hoping they wouldn't think to check there, if they came in before my parents got home.

I dashed upstairs. Alex was riffling through his stuff, shoving things into his now empty school backpack. His school books were dumped in the middle of his floor, like he'd taken the whole bag and had just turned it all the way over. I ran down the hallway, bypassing the singed doorway and did the same with my own backpack.

I pulled out two pairs of jeans and two shirts, both of which were rugged enough to stand up to wear and tear, and a sweatshirt and sweatpants, and some underwear. Then I pulled together a bag of toiletries, including a toothbrush, toothpaste, travel hair brush, soap, hand sanitizer, etc. I rolled up the clothing, army style, and then shoved the toiletries in after them. Then I grabbed two blankets from the bathroom closet. I packed one and held the other one for Alex. Then I stowed some of the money in my wallet and the other in my bag, inside the main compartment. I changed out of my school uniform, putting on jeans, a black t-shirt with no logo, my sports training sneakers, and a heavier coat. It was November, still warm in San Francisco, but not so much where we were going.

Alex appeared in my doorway. He'd changed as well into jeans and a t-shirt with running sneakers.

"Take that blanket," I told him, pointing to the second I'd set aside. He rolled it tight and shoved it into his bag.

"Anything else?" He asked.

"Remember to grab your jacket from the downstairs closet," I told him. "It's going to be cold where we're going. And you've got clean underwear right?"

"Yes," he replied, rolling his eyes.

"Just checking," I told him. I finally threw in my cell-phone charger and my stuffed dog that I'd gotten when I was two. It wasn't one of those "essentials", but it was something I didn't want to leave behind. I'd seen Alex's penguin in his bag when he'd shoved the blanket in.

"What are we going to do about food?" he asked.

"I've got five hundred dollars," I told him, pulling my extra hundred from my money jar and shoving it in my pocket with fifty of the emergency money. "We should have enough for food and train tickets east. How much do you have?"

Alex counted on his fingers. "About eighty I think."

"We'll keep that for emergency," I told him. "Keep it somewhere safe, alright?"

He nodded. We walked downstairs and Alex removed his jacket from the hallway closet, pulling it on over his t-shirt and then slinging his backpack over his shoulders.

"Ready," he said.

I just finished tightening the straps on my bag. "Me too. Let's go out the back, they're probably watching the front door."

We snuck out the back sliding door into the small yard we were afforded in the city of San Francisco. It was connected to the yards of the houses on either side of us and separated from the ones behind ours by a wooden fence. This fence we took a running start at, pulling ourselves over it in a fluid motion. I stumbled a bit, but managed to remain on my feet. Alex, who climbed around a lot more then I did, made it over easily, still running. We ran along the fence, crouched below the upper line, darting around toys, chairs, and laundry lines as we went. I was glad I wore my running shoes.

Before breaking out from the cover of the houses, we paused to check the street. It was a good thing we did too, because a police car drove by slowly, scanning the block. These guys weren't stupid. Shit!

"What are we going to do?" Alex asked, his nervousness creeping into his voice.

I honestly didn't know. _I_ could just go invisible and sneak past. But Alex couldn't. Or could he? My eyes fell to the band on my wrist. It definitely wasn't natural fabric, yet I could make _it_ disappear when I focused. Why not other things? Why not other _people_?

"Let me try something," I said. "Take my hand." I reached out and took firm hold of Alex's hand. I focused on disappearing like normal, but this time I tried to extend it. I imagined it like in Harry Potter, like a cloak that I could throw over another person or thing. I focused extra hard on enclosing Alex in my invisible shroud, then took a deep breath before opening my eyes.

The result wasn't as good as I'd hoped. When I looked over at Alex, I could see a sort of outline of him, but it looked like his skin was a brick wall. It reminded me a bit of in cartoons, when someone goes invisible and you can still see their outline so you can see what they are doing. Alex looked like a really good chameleon. But if he moved quickly, I don't think anyone would notice him for long enough. We had to run again.

"Can you see me?" I asked him.

"No," Alex replied. I was surprised about this. Typically people couldn't hear me in this state. But of course, I'd never tried it with someone I'd made invisible too. I wondered if Alex could hear me because he was invisible, or because anyone could hear me, stretched like this. I sincerely hoped it was the former rather then the later. But just in case,

"We've got to keep quiet," I told him, "But also move fairly quickly. Let's go, and keep a good hold on my hand," I warned. I saw his outline nod.

I led him out onto the street, slowing only a bit to avoid pedestrians on the sidewalk. We had to move quickly to keep Alex from being seen, but it would be ten times worse if we crashed into someone. Especially if that someone knew what I was, or at least was able to put two and two together.

We made it down two blocks before I finally had to let go of Alex's hand. He faded back into the proper light spectrum and I followed right behind him on my own will. I was drained, physically from the running, and mentally from trying to concentrate on maintaining our invisibility.

"The train station isn't far," I told him. "Do you know where it is?"

"Yep," Alex replied confidently.

"Then lead the way, but we need to be careful and keep _cool._" I emphasized my last word as a reminder to Alex. The last thing we needed was him bursting into flame because a car alarm or something sounded.

"Alright," Alex nodded carefully. We walked at a quick pace, but not one that would stand out from the flow of people on the sidewalk. Really, it just said "we know exactly where we are going". I kept checking my watch as we went, counting down the time until our absence would be noticed, and then when the police would know we were gone. By 5:10, we made it to the train station. I bought two tickets to New York with two stops, one in Denver, Colorado, another in Chicago, Illinois, and then the final at our destination, New York City. I figured, worse comes to worse and we can't find Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, we could get lost in New York City.

The train was scheduled to leave at six. That was the earliest that was leaving in our direction. But it meant waiting for forty-five agonizing minutes in the train station. I didn't want to sit in one place. Tom had said not to stay in one place for too long. Alex was also fidgety, sitting on the bench next to me. I could feel moments when he fought for control, but it was like sitting next to a failing heater, rather then a roaring fire. He was working on it. I felt proud of him.

The hand on the station clock above the ticket counter crept around towards the hour. 5:25, 5:31, 5:42, 5:46. For sure our parents were home and they'd probably found our note. And the police were probably already posting missing children posters. I half expected some one to come up to us and claim to know us from the milk carton or something. A bit theatrical, I know, but I was nervous. My imagination was playing all kinds of tricks on me.

Finally the clock ticked to ten minutes 'til 6. The train rolled into the station and passengers got off. We climbed on, showing our tickets. I'd gotten us the cheapest tickets possible, just two plain seats surrounded by other passengers. We found seats and collapsed into them, fried. Alex took the inside window seat. I slouched down in my own aisle seat, happy to have a chance to finally relax a bit. It was a train after all; you couldn't really lie down like you would in a bed. I permitted myself to close my eyes and lean my head back against the seat, not thinking of anything. We were safely on the train. In a few moments it would begin moving and we would be on our way.

"Excuse me." My eyes shot open and fell on the conductor, who'd addressed me a moment before.

"Yes?" I asked. I kept my voice calm but on the inside I was panicking. Oh my god! The Police are here to get us! They found us already!

"I noticed you two are travelling alone and I just wanted to get your names. Standard procedure for travelling minors really," he added. I glanced down at my wrist. The jacket still covered the mutant band. Maybe this really was just for kids who were travelling without an adult. The conductor looked honest enough, a younger man with glasses and a kind face.

"Uh, sure," I said. "I'm Kim Smith, and this is my brother Peter," I gestured towards Alex.

"Right," the conductor said, jotting our names on a small notepad, "Is there anything I can do for you at the moment?"

"No, we're fine," I replied.

"Good. I'll just have an attendant check up on you a few times, okay? How far are you going?"

"All the way to New York." I leaned in closer to the conductor and whispered, "My brother is afraid of flying." It probably couldn't be farther from the truth. Alex actually loved plane rides and had aspirations to become a pilot.

"Then I'm sure we'll get to know each other," the conductor said with a smile. He replaced his notepad in his breast pocket and continued on down the aisle, leaving us alone. I didn't let out the sigh of relief. It would be suspicious. Alex and I just waited in silence until 6:00 when the train finally rolled into motion. We were on our way, away from San Francisco, the only home we'd ever known. I felt a pang of homesickness as the city was left behind.

**A/N: Hey, just a note from your author! How are you liking it so far? Thumbs up, thumbs down, or _ehh_. Let me know! Also, things are promised to pick up in Denver, but as we all know, the real action is gonna start in NYC. The Big Apple! So stick with me and don't forget to tell me what you think. Oh, and if you see some typos, please ignore, or if it is really bothering you, drop me a line and i'll try and fix it quickly. That's all for now folks!**

**-Wish**


	4. Chapter 4: Denver

**Hey it's your favorite author Wish! Okay...maybe not your _favorite_ but you know i'm pretty high on that list! Anywho, Here's the fourth chapter, hope you enjoy. Please, start to make assumptions about the end, that only makes things more interesting! i can't promise you i'm going to do anything with it though. So read, review, comment, pick your nose, i don't really care, as long as you don't pick your friend's nose. Ugh! Again, hope you enjoy!**

**-Wish**

**P.S. And for this chapter and all subsequent chapters, we're having the first story-al TELL-athon. That's right! Tell all your friends about what an awesome story you're reading (if you really do think it's good) and get them to read and review. The reader with the most referrals gets...(drum roll)...THE PRIDE OF A JOB WELL DONE!!! (Cheering!) So get out there and tell all your buddies so YOU can be our lucky winner!**

Chapter 4: Denver

The train ride was long and tedious, across the desert and through the snow-capped Rocky Mountains. Alex stared out the window for a while. We'd never been across the mountains. Our parents had preferred to keep us on the west coast. Already, we were farther east then we'd ever been, and we were just going to go farther.

We arrived in Denver in the morning. Let me tell you, a train is not the best place to sleep. When it got dark out, one of the attendants brought us some pillows. We got out our own blankets and reclined our seats the few degrees they went.

A mother and her young daughter sat across from us. They put up the armrest between them and the girl laid across her seat, placing her head in her mother's lap. I couldn't help but smile at the little girl. She looked up at me and smiled back as her mother stroked her fair, blonde hair. I remembered when I was her age; back before any of this got started. It was simpler.

Alex and I probably only slept in half hour to hour-long increments. I woke up as the sun was rising ahead of us. Looking over, I saw that Alex was still asleep. To say he looked tired was an understatement. He had dark circles under his eyes; he looked pale and worn, even in his sleep. His hair stood on end where it had been pressed awkwardly against the cool window. But, despite his haggard look, Alex seemed peaceful. I remembered what he'd been like when he'd lost control. Alex had been scary, with his flaming eyes and his cherry-red hands, and the intense heat that had just poured out of him. This Alex was completely different. This was the Alex _I_ knew, from all those years together. I don't know if his loss of control had been scary because of the raw power, or because he was my little brother, but I _did_ know that this was my brother who I'd protected and comforted since he was little. I would do everything I could to take care of him.

Alex groaned and blinked a few times.

"Uh," he moaned, stretching as much as he could in the confined space. "My back feels like someone took a jackhammer to it," he complained.

I chuckled and readjusted my seat. Outside, the outskirts of Denver were appearing around the mountains. Across from us, the mother was rousing her daughter. The little girl looked the most rested of the four of us.

"Good Morning Mommy," the girl whispered in the loud, little kid whisper.

"Good Morning Jaycee," the mother replied tenderly.

"Are we going to see Daddy soon?"

"Yes, very soon."

The little Jaycee bounced over to the window, a smile breaking across her face. She turned towards Alex and I. "We're going to see my daddy!" she exclaimed. "He works here."

"That must be really exciting," I replied. She giggled and turned back towards the window.

"Sorry," the mother mouthed.

"It's okay," I replied silently.

The train passed more and more buildings and I knew the first part of our journey was coming to an end.

The train arrived in the station at 6 AM, Mountain Time. That meant it felt like 5 AM to everyone on the train. The general attitude, Jaycee being the obvious exception, seemed to be tiredness.

"Bye, bye," she waved to me as we got off the train. It would leave again in an hour, headed for Chicago.

"Bye Jaycee," I called back. I liked the little girl. I turned back to Alex. "I don't know about you, but I could use a good breakfast."

Alex looked confused. "But we can't afford it, can we?"

"We can afford this."

"Where would we go?"

"I dunno, a diner maybe?" We asked a woman at the information desk and she pointed us to an establishment only a short walk away. It wasn't a five-star eatery, but the food was decent and above all, cheap.

The diner was shoved between two other, more recent, buildings that towered over the place, dwarfing it. Alex and I were directed towards a table against the wall. The waitress was friendly, probably because we were kids.

"Where are you headed?" she asked.

"New York," I replied, truthfully for once. I didn't see the problem in telling the truth. We were miles away from San Francisco.

"That's pretty far, you going to family?"

"Yeah, something like that."

The waitress smiled and left us with our breakfast.

"What are we going to do when we get to New York?" Alex asked. "All our family is back in San Fran."

"We'll look up the school," I told him. "We know it's in Westchester, right? It shouldn't be too hard to find."

Alex cut into his pancakes, brought a piece to his mouth, and chewed it thoughtfully. He watched the people moving outside as I watched him. "How many do you think are like us?" he asked quietly.

I looked outside. "I'm not sure," I replied. "But there has to be enough. Otherwise it wouldn't be such a big deal that we register, right?"

"Right, I guess," Alex replied.

There was a moment when the only noise between the two of us was the scraping of utensils on plates. "How are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm tired," Alex admitted. "And I've got a knot in my back the size of a softball." He snorted.

I rolled my eyes. "You _know_ what I mean."

Alex copied me. "I'm fine," he insisted. "I'm in control. Feel."

He reached out and took my hand across the table. It was still a bit warm, but I think it might stay like that, as a regular. It really was just a small change. I'd changed my whole _appearance_.

"Good," I told him. "Good job."

He grinned and attacked his pancakes a new. After both of us finished and we'd paid, we still had some time before we were due back at the train station. Neither of us had been in Denver, so we decided to walk around a bit. It was 6:30.

We walked back down the street, looking around. Denver was a much higher altitude then San Francisco. We were breathing heavily, just walking down the street!

"It's not going to be like this in New York, is it?" Alex panted.

"I don't think so," I replied. "The Appalachians aren't as tall as the Rockies, so even if it is in the mountains, we should be go—"I was cut off as something grabbed my backpack and jerked me back, away from the main street, into a back alley. A pair of hands held my arms behind my back and shoved me up against the wall.

"What have we here?" An unfamiliar voice asked. I tried to look back at my attacker, but he was really _strong_. A thump to my left told me Alex was probably in the same sort of grasp.

"What do you want?" I asked, trying to sound tough. I think I failed miserably.

"Two runaways is my guess," a different, higher-pitched voice said. I think its owner was holding Alex. "_Rich_ runaways you think?"

"Perhaps," the first voice commented. I felt the guy rooting through my jacket pockets and my back pockets. Thankfully I'd moved all my money to a hidden pocket in my coat, designed for that purpose. He didn't find anything.

"Shit," he swore. "She's dry."

"This one's got forty."

We had to get out. These guys were obviously trouble and I didn't want to think of what they would do with us for yielding such a meager sum of money for them. Unfortunately, my invisibility wouldn't come in handy if he still had a hold on me. He'd know where I was by touch. But _Alex_ could do something. It had to be quick too. This guy was bound to find my mutant band and then they'd be wary. We had to catch them off guard.

"Hey Alex," I called. "Flame on!" Alex liked the Fantastic Four comic books. Especially the Thing. But he would know the Human Torch's catchphrase. Hopefully he'd understand what I wanted him to do.

I heard a yelp from my left and grinned. Alex had got it.

"What the hell?!" exclaimed the second attacker, who'd been holding Alex. "What the hell was _that_?!"

The grip on me lessened a bit, but not enough for me to break free. I was still shoved against the wall. Was he still looking at me, or was he paying attention to his cohort?

"What happened?" Yes, the attacker's attention had turned away, towards his friend. I took the opportunity to go invisible. He still had me, but maybe he would let go when he didn't _see_ me.

"Get him!" shouted the other attacker. There was a shuffling followed by a thump and a grunt.

"Gotcha!"

"Let go of me!" Alex yelled. I felt a blast of heat from my left. Then someone swore behind me and released me.

"Where's she go?" the guy behind me demanded. I spun and was on the move. The alley was in chaos. Alex was _flaming_. His eyes were red again and he held fire in his hands. I was surprised the two would-be attackers were still around! Obviously they weren't the brightest crayons in the box. Then I realized there was only one way out of the alley, and Alex was blocking it. I wouldn't want to go anywhere near him either.

I hugged the wall, avoiding the two men who'd tried to rob us. As I came closer to Alex, the heat intensified. Only when I was standing at his side, did I return to visibility. Their mouths practically hit the grimy pavement.

"What?" I demanded. "Never seen _mutants _before?" I couldn't help gloating. We were in control now, why not?

"You're just kids!" one exclaimed. I think he'd been the one holding Alex because he was cradling one hand in the other and his eyebrows were just singed lines on his face.

"What, you think mutants just _appear_ as adults?"

The two looked dumbfounded. I stifled the laugh that threatened to burst from my throat. I stepped aside, clearing just enough space between Alex and I for them to pass. "Get out of here, and tell all your buddies to leave us be."

The rats didn't need to be told twice. They dashed for the hole, stumbling over each other all the while keeping a wary eye on us.

As soon as they were gone, I turned to Alex. He was trying to concentrate. His eyes were shut again and his fists were clenched. Instead of the flames that had sat in his palms going out, tongues peaked through cracks in his fist, licking at his knuckles and fingers. I watched him, letting him try to regain control on his own.

Slowly the flames around his fists shrunk, dwindling to the size of candle flames, and then retreating back inside his hands. Once more the heat flickered, and then died back. But when Alex opened his eyes again, they were not entirely their original blue. Immediately around the pupil was a line of yellow, like his eyes were the center, hottest parts of the fires that accompanied Alex's mutation.

"Er, Alex, your eyes," I commented.

Alex seemed puzzled. "What's wrong? I'm in control. I can feel it. Here, feel my hand." He reached out and laid his palm on my cheek. It was slightly warmer then usual, but not scorching like when he was out of control.

"But they're yellow still!" I insisted. "Or at least, around the pupil they are."

Alex frowned. "I'm in control," he repeated. "I know I am."

I was nervous. I didn't know what was happening to Alex. I wasn't an expert in mutations.

"We've got to get to that school," I said finally.

Alex nodded, almost _solemnly_. "What time is it?" he asked.

Shit! I'd forgotten about the time. I checked my watch. It was 6:48! We only had twelve minutes to get back to the station!

"C'mon!" I said, grabbing his wrist and sprinting back, in the direction I knew was the train station. Alex ran next to me, his breath coming in short, rapid bursts. My own lungs felt like they were going to explode. Curse high altitude cities!

We burst into the train station with only two minutes to spare, gasping for breath. Other travelers looked at us, some puzzled, some understanding. We sprinted through the station to our platform and hopped on the right train, just as it signaled and started moving, pulling away from Denver. I didn't notice as I sat down, the man in the dark suit who watched us carefully as we found our seats, all the while speaking low and rapidly into his cell phone.


	5. Chapter 5: Tagged

**A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in a long time but I've been focusing on other stories. **

**I took a look at my characters again and decided to change just a few things in the chapters I haven't posted yet, so none of the current ones are changing. I also wrote a side story from this one. Basically it's going to be a flash back from Alex's POV about what happened at school for him to come home upset like that. I think you guys might like it. I wrote it for my Fiction Writing class. I'm going to post it as a chapter in this story next.**

**Read, Review, Pass it on!**

**-Wish**

Chapter 5: Tagged

The trip from Denver to Chicago took longer. We left the thin mountain air behind and now travelled across the long plains, passing small towns along the way. We didn't stop in any town that I knew of. Alex and I slept a lot at first, tired from our escapade in Denver. We never really regained our breath until we were back, out of the mountains, in a more reasonable altitude. We ate in the dining car and slept in the regular seats. This time, we were able to use both our seats, and the seats across from us, since the train wasn't too crowded.

When we finally pulled into Chicago, Alex and I were happy for it. We were tired of sitting and absolutely despised the train by then. But we'd also grown cavalier about security, and that's where we went wrong. Apparently a few hundred miles wasn't enough to keep the Police away.

The final train from Chicago to New York City didn't pull in until later that afternoon. That left Alex and I to roam Chicago, finding a place to go on our own. We decided to pay for a room at a Motel 6. We weren't spending the night, but both of us needed the sleep and a good, hot shower. The motel wasn't all that great, but it was clean and had all the amenities we wanted.

Alex and I took turns showering. I went first, and when I came out, found Alex collapsed on his bed, on top of the comforter, still fully dressed. It looked like he just fell asleep and happened to drop onto the bed, instead of the floor. I woke him up and he disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Now it was my turn to pass out, but only after setting the alarm for 3 PM. It would give us two hours to get to the train station before our connection left. I didn't sleep the whole time though. At around 11, I woke again to the sound of Tom and Jerry. Alex sat on his bed, his back against the headboard, staring blankly at the screen.

"I always told you cartoons would melt your brain, brother," I said. Alex pulled his gaze from the screen to look at me with owl eyes. "Looks like it finally happened," I commented, shaking my head.

He threw a pillow at me. "Shut up!" he retorted.

I chuckled and looked around the room. It hardly looked like anyone was there. Our packs stood, lined up on the wall near the door, ready to go at a moment's notice. Everything else was left exactly as we'd found it.

"Well it looks like you didn't burn the place down," I joked.

He snorted, looking around as well. "Well…I thought about it and figured, why bother? It's not like there's anything in here to be worth the effort."

"Probably not," I agreed.

"What if we can't find this Xavier's School when we get to New York? What if it's not listed or something?"

"We'll figure something out," I assured him. "New York City is huge. We'll manage."

Despite my reassurances, Alex's expression still reflected the uncertainty I held in my own heart. I was second guessing myself. Had this all been a huge mistake? Had I just overreacted? I didn't think so at the time. Alex had hurt someone. And he was a mutant. What if he'd been deemed "too dangerous" and had been locked up, or _worse_?

But now that we were hundreds of miles from home, all alone in a strange city, I wasn't so sure I'd done the right thing in taking Alex from home, where he had loving parents and financial support, and perhaps even a bright future. From where I sat, on the bed of a Motel 6, that future was looking mighty bleak.

Without warning, someone pounded on the door. Both of us froze. The only sound, for a time, was from the Tom and Jerry cartoon that was still playing.

"Police! Open up!" A voice growled from beyond the door. Alex looked to me, silently asking what to do. I didn't know. We were stuck. The Police were at the door, and we were situated three stories above the ground. Fire and invisibility couldn't fight gravity like that. We were trapped.

The Police banged on the door harder. "Open up or we will break down the door!"

I rushed to comply, not wishing to incur damage expenses. Tom had said to stay off the radar. Well, obviously we hadn't been able to do that, but perhaps if we didn't make too big a "blip", we could still make things work in our favor.

I wrenched the door open to reveal two officers in full uniform, badges open in one hand and firearms trained towards the door in the other. It was a scary to suddenly have two guns pointed in your face.

"Get down!" one yelled. I dropped automatically, covering my head. The other stormed past us, waving his gun at Alex and shouting similar words. I was almost relieved when Alex obeyed, his hands in the air.

The officer leaned over me, wrenching back my sweatshirt sleeve.

"The tip was right," he called to his partner. "We've got one confirmed mutant." There was a red flash, like a camera, and a soft "whrr" from the machine that had generated the flash.

"Megan Miles, Codename: Shadow, Class Four, Invisibility, 16-years old." He read off my information like it was a sports bio or something. Then he swore as the machine began to beep annoyingly. "She's flagged."

"This one doesn't have a band," his partner called. "But you gotta check out these eyes."

I heard the clinking of metal over my head and then my arms were wrenched, behind my back. Cold, hard steel clicked into place on one of my wrists, then the other. Handcuffs? _Really_? The cop hauled me to my feet by my elbow and dragged me to where Alex was still stuck on the ground, the other officer's knee on his back. The officer held Alex's chin up so that his partner, holding me, could see the yellow circles around Alex's black pupils.

"Are you a mutant?" he asked Alex firmly.

Alex glanced between the officer holding his head up, the one who'd asked the question, and me. I lowered my chin ever so slightly, hoping Alex would understand my half nod.

"Y-yes," he stuttered.

"Why aren't you registered?" the cop demanded.

Again Alex looked to me. I shifted my head right. _No._

Alex closed his mouth and didn't say anything.

"Does it matter Dan?" demanded the officer with his knee in Alex's back. "We've got two runaways; one flagged already, the other one in violation. Let's just take 'em down to the station and sort this out there."

Officer Dan looked between Alex and his partner, before nodding. The other cop slapped a pair of handcuffs on Alex and hauled him to his feet, being just as rough with him as his partner was with me. Alex cried out a bit as the cuffs cut into his wrists from the tension of being pulled up by his arm. But he quickly bit his lip and glared at the police. They grabbed our bags and hustled us out of the room, shutting to door behind them.

We stood silent in the elevator down and were greeted by dozens of nosy guests and neighbors, wondering why there was a police Suburban parked outside the Motel 6. The officers ignored the onlookers and escorted us across the lobby and out the doors to their vehicle. Whispers began to float over the crowd.

"_They're just kids!"_

"_What do you think they did?"_

"_My daughter's that age."_

I wanted to disappear. I think I started to, around my head and neck. Neither of the cops seemed to notice it, but the bystanders did.

"_They're mutants!"_

"_Ugh! Disgusting breed."_

"_They look so young!"_

"_They probably _murdered_ someone."_

'_That's a little carried away_,' I thought at the last remark.

The cops picked up the pace as we passed more spectators. Officer Dan opened the back seat door of the Suburban and shoved me inside, holding my head down so I didn't hit it on the roof of the car. Alex was right behind me and then the door slammed shut. The back seat was barred from the front by a miniature fence. The doors in the back also didn't open from the inside, not that we could open them with our hands cuffed behind our backs.

The drive to the police station required us to go across town. It was quite a long drive, with traffic and the like. Dan suggested to the other officer (who's name was apparently Bob) that they turn on the lights.

"Sarge doesn't want us doing that to bring rats back," Bob replied.

"These aren't rats," Dan said. "These are _mutants_."

"Same deal." I gritted my teeth at Bob's answer. It was rude and inconsiderate, not to mention completely ignorant.

We arrived at the police station, finally, and Bob parked in one of the Police-designated spots. Dan let us out and steered us towards the station. It was busy, being the middle of the work day. Officers walked back and forth down white hallways, sometimes together, sometimes alone, sometimes talking on a radio or phone, sometimes towing a person in cuffs. Dan and Bob obviously fell under that last group as they steered us down the hallways to a large desk. One line stood to the side and read "Registration: Regular". Another station stood open to the right of the regular line. It read "Registration: Mutant". Bob and Dan bypassed the line of cops in the regular line and marched us up to the mutant line. A female officer sat at the computer.

"Got them?" she asked.

"Yes," Bob replied. "Two runaways. One is flagged. The other is unregistered."

"Let's get the flagged one first," the woman suggested. Dan pulled out a key and inserted it into the cuffs. Only my left cuff came off, freeing my hand with the mutant band. Bob grabbed it and laid it on the desk, code side exposed. The lady pulled out a scanner head and there was the red flash again. As soon as I was scanned, Dan pulled my hand back again and reattached the cuff. The freedom had been nice while it'd lasted.

"Fine," the woman said. "You can put her in cell M3."

Without warning, Dan tugged me back and began pulling me away from the desk, and Alex.

"No!" I shouted, trying to stop my backwards motion.

"Meg!" Alex called, also pulling against Bob's hold.

I panicked as my resistance didn't help me. I went invisible, then flickered visible as I lost control of it. Other officers rushed to Dan's aide, grabbing my shoulder when they reappeared and pushing me back.

I could see four officers holding Alex, though they couldn't seem to hold their grip for too long. After only a couple seconds, they hissed and pulled their hand away, like Alex's skin was a stove-top. I lost sight of Alex as I was dragged around the corner by three cops. A door banged open behind me and the police gave one last heave and sent me flying back, through a door way, sprawling on a concrete floor. A heavy door with a bullet-proof glass window slammed shut, barring my only exit, the way back to my brother.

My hands were still cuffed behind my back. I couldn't even beat myself over the head for getting us into this situation. The door must've been sound-proof as well because I couldn't hear anything that was going on outside my cell.

The cell was small, only the size of a walk-in closet really. A pallet was bolted to the floor to one side and a small toilet sat across the space with a wash basin. I slumped on the bed and didn't move until the door opened slightly. An unknown officer, a woman, walked in and un-cuffed me.

"Are you going to behave?" she asked, her voice gruff.

"Where's Alex?" I demanded.

"Quiet," she growled. "That's not your concern."

"Then why are you here?" I asked.

"You're flagged. A higher-up will be coming tomorrow morning to pick you up. You had your chance."

"What's flagged?" I was annoyed.

"Flagged means you only had one chance to do things peacefully. Now they'll be doing things the hard way. But you like that way, don't you? After all, it was hard enough shoving you in this hole."

"Shut up," I growled. I went invisible, clothing and all. The woman hit a buzzer on her belt and the cell door burst open. Officer's swarmed into the cell and they quickly found me. I was man-handled, back onto the pallet and held down until I was visible again. Only then, did they all leave me alone.


	6. Chapter 6: The XGuys

**A/N: Yay, another update! Thanks to you reviewers who were the constant reminder that I couldn't just drop this story. I hope to have a few more chapters coming for you. Read, Review, Pass it on!**

**-Wish**

Chapter 6: The X-Guys

They slid food in through the door around what was probably dinner time. I ate it, having not eaten anything since the night before. Other times, I just lay on the pallet, staring at the concrete ceiling. I mind's well have been in a bunker. Perhaps a bunker would have been more comfortable. I closed my eyes but I didn't sleep. I couldn't, knowing Alex was somewhere I didn't know, probably in the same setting. Instead, I began to form a plan. Some way to get out of this prison, find Alex, and leave Chicago behind. I focused on the reaction to when I'd gone invisible. They'd swarmed. That was the only way they found me. But what if I went invisible at night? They couldn't have that many officers on duty then, could they. It should be easier to slip out the door. Just maybe.

I tried around eleven, by my watch. They hadn't taken it from me. As soon as I went invisible, I slipped closer to the door. Like clockwork, the door slid open and three cops piled in. But three could fit in the cell. They began waving their hands around like blind people, hoping to hit me. But that didn't happen. I ducked low to the ground and slipped through the door as it closed behind them. I was out, they were in, and the hallway was quiet. It had worked!

I didn't know where Alex was though, but I figured he would be in this hallway somewhere. These had to be special cells. Alex was indeed special. I looked up and down the hallway. Nothing stood out. I would have to do this the old fashioned way. I'd have to look.

I started at the first cell at the end of the hallway. It was empty. The second cell wasn't much better. I skirted around my own cell, ready for the door to slide open again and the alarm to sound. Alex wasn't in the fourth cell either. There were only two left. Was it possible he wasn't in this section? I hoped not.

But neither of the remaining two cells held Alex and my time was running out. Soon they would have to realize I wasn't in the cell and it would be that much harder to find him. I raced back down the hallway, running towards the registration area. That would be the place to begin. Maybe I could get into their computer system. Possibilities ran through my mind so quickly, I didn't even notice the figure that materialized in front of me until I was going to run into it.

But I didn't. I caught a glimpse of a teenage girl's face, and then slipped right through her. I didn't think she even knew I had.

"Who's there?" she asked. Then again, maybe she did.

I wasn't sure if I should reveal myself to her. Time was running out. But there was something off about her, besides the fact that I'd just slipped right _through_ her. She wore all black leather with a pink outline of an "X" across her chest. Her brown hair was pulled back into a messy bun. She crouched in the hallway, ready for a fight. I wondered who she was, and why she was there, and how she knew I was there.

I rematerialized in front of her. "Who are you?" I asked.

The girl stood out of her crouch. "Kitty," she replied. "You?"

"Meg," I answered.

"I'm here to get you out," Kitty told me. "You're Meg Miles right? Shadow?"

"That's right," I told her.

"You're already out," she stated.

"Obviously."

We both turned suddenly as three more people skidded into the hallway. I was already half invisible when I recognized Alex with a huge, muscular boy and a smaller, blonde boy. Both wore similar suits as Kitty, except the blond boy's was blue outlined and the big one didn't have any sleeves.

"Alex." I rushed towards him, throwing my arms around his neck. My bottom half was still invisible. Alex hugged me back quickly, and then stepped back.

"Meg, this is Iceman, and Colossus," he said, gesturing to first the blonde boy, and then the giant one.

"You got her?" Iceman asked Kitty.

"She got out on her own," Kitty replied. "I walked in on three officers waving their hands around like lunatics."

Iceman snorted.

"Friends of yours?" I asked Kitty, nodding towards Iceman and Colossus.

"Yep," Kitty replied. "Let's get out of here." She pulled a silver device from her belt. Another X, this time elongated. It popped open and Kitty spoke quickly into it.

"Ready when you are," she said. A voice crackled back.

"Meet us on the roof," it said. "There's a helipad."

"Be there soon," Kitty replied. She clicked the device shut and led the way. Kitty seemed to know the police station like she'd grown up there. She led us up back stairways and avoided officers who were on night-duty. Sometimes we couldn't though. When it was possible, we hid and crept along. I was best at this, for obvious reasons. But only three minutes after leaving the hallway with the cell, an alarm sounded.

"Mutants loose, Mutants loose. Proceed with caution. They are _dangerous_." The voice crackled through the radio on one of the officers' we'd just passed.

"Let's keep moving," Kitty whispered. We hurried on, rounding a corner and skidding to a stop.

Barring the way were a row of five officers, guns drawn and trained in our direction. They'd known we were going up. They'd been waiting for us. Somehow.

"Find cover," Colossus ordered. His skin rippled and turned silver and metallic. The muscles in his exposed arms were more defined in that form.

Iceman grabbed Alex and pulled him back around the corner. Kitty's hand found my arm and she pulled me sideways, through a wall! I felt like I was squeezed and the light flickered for a second, and then we were in an office of some sort. The light's must've been motion-sensitive because they flickered on. I could hear gunfire through the wall.

"Alex!" I shouted.

"He's fine, come on!" Kitty urged. She pulled me towards another wall and I was squished again. She ran through another office and a wall and yet another, until we found ourselves in another hallway. The firefight was louder now. Kitty slowed a little, heading left towards an intersection. Shouts could be heard from the perpendicular hallway. Kitty and I peeked around the corner. We were looking at the _backs_ of the officers. Iceman and Colossus were providing distractions. Bullets were clinking off Colossus's metal skin like they were raindrops. Iceman had an ice-wall up and already had several bullets lodged in five-inch thick ice.

They could have probably been doing something about the police at the moment. But they were on the defensive. Then I realized that they were the distraction.

"Wait," I whispered. I reached out and placed my hand on Kitty's arm, concentrating as hard as I could. This time, Kitty turned completely invisible, no outline or anything.

"Cool," Kitty whispered.

"They can't hear us like this," I told her.

We still tip-toed around the corner. Kitty led the way, though she kept her hand in contact with my arm.

"We're going to take them out one by one," Kitty said. "Shots to the groin and face, okay?"

I nodded and then, realizing that she couldn't see my face, replied, "Yes."

"Good." Kitty slipped through the line of cops. "Now!"

She let go and immediately rematerialized. The police officers were so surprised to see her, they actually stopped shooting for a moment. Iceman and Colossus took this moment to charge forward, on the offensive now. Kitty took one down with a well-placed kick in the gut, and then a punch right in the jaw. He dropped like a bag of rocks. I kicked one of the officers in the groin and he doubled over, looking around frantically for the source of the pain. But I was still invisible. I formed a fist and punched him as hard as I could in the nose.

Pain shot through my knuckles, so much that I gasped in shock and lost my invisibility. I cradled my injured hand against my chest, looking around for help. Kitty was preoccupied with an officer who was fighting back. Colossus had his own officer and Iceman was freezing another. Alex had poked his head around the corner and was watching the fight with admiration in his eyes.

Kitty finished off the final officer and the way was clear once more. Alex joined them from his spot around the corner.

"You okay?" Kitty asked me.

"I hurt my hand," I muttered through clenched teeth. Kitty took the hand gently and probed it. Two hisses later and Kitty deduced that there were two broken knuckles.

"We'll fix it when we get back to the school," she said. "We've gotta keep moving."

I supported my battered hand against my stomach as we hurried onward, going up until we found ourselves outside. The wind threatened to sweep us off the edge of the rood and the only light was from distant skyscrapers. I could barely make out the black aircraft that had landed on the roof.

It was some sort of jet, sleek and dark and seemingly, incredibly _fast_. Kitty led the way towards a ramp lowered from the back side of the jet. Alex and Iceman were right behind her.

"C'mon," Colossus said, gesturing for me to come with him. We jogged as much as we could (I was starting to feel dizzy from the pain in my abused hand) to the jet and walked up the ramp. It closed behind us.

Inside, the jet was crazy high-tech. Three rows of seats with three-point harnesses faced a wide windshield. A panel of confusing controls blinked just below the glass. Behind the rows of seats were yet more, these against the wall of the jet, built into the wall itself and separated by only thin armrests. Across from the extra seating was what looked like, a field medical station. A padded table awaited a patient. Medical equipment, the likes of which are usually only found in ambulances, stood at the ready.

I paused at the top of the ramp, awestruck.

"Pretty cool huh?" Colossus asked from where he stood beside me. I simply nodded. In front of me Iceman and Alex had taken the second row of seats. Kitty was in the right-side, co-pilot's seat. In front of Iceman, on the left and in the pilot's seat, sat a woman with dark skin and short, white and grey hair. She wore a leather suit like the others, hers with silver details and an awesome cape.

"Everyone buckle up," She called.

I took the seat behind Kitty and Alex while Colossus took the seat across from me. The harness was tricky to buckle, even _without_ a possible broken hand. With one, it was a painful and awkward endeavor that took way too long, but one I eventually accomplished. As the last part snapped into place, the engines thrummed to life. They were surprisingly quiet, enough so that headsets weren't even necessary, like they were in helicopters. I heard Alex in front of me exclaim, "This is awesome!" as we shot into the air. Iceman laughed.

"It is pretty cool!" he admitted. "Even now."

"Welcome to the Blackbird II," the pilot said in her gentle, yet clear voice.

"Blackbird _II_?" I asked.

"The first was destroyed at Alcatraz," Kitty explained. Her tone suggested that it wasn't a good subject to talk about at the moment. I made a mental note to ask later.

"So, are you those X-Guys from the news?" Alex asked enthusiastically.

"We're X-men," Colossus corrected. "Storm was one of the first. Kitty, Iceman, and I are I guess what you could call second generation. We try to protect mutant and human life."

"What's the 'X' stand for?"

"Charles _Xavier_ was our founder and teacher."

"Wait," I cut in, "So you guys are definitely from that school? The one that's supposed to be for mutants?"

"Yep," Kitty said.

"We've been trying to get there," said Alex. "We were headed to New York City when they arrested us."

"We know," Storm replied. "We've been tracking your progress along the way."

That unnerved me, so I asked, "How?"

"Some other time perhaps," Storm suggested. "We're here."

Automatically everyone looked out the cockpit window. Sure enough, an ivy-blanketed mansion rose up in the dark, a few lights shining through windows, but mostly dark.

Storm brought the jet in slowly. It looked like she was going to land on top of the school. But thata would be really conspicuous. At the last minute, the basketball court next to the main buiding split apart, revealing a large gap through which the ship sunk and touched down gently.

As we unbuckled, the roof closed and exterior lights went on. Storm lowered the ramp again and we all exited. The hanger as huge, probably able to fit two Blackbirds. At the far end was a single, human-sized door. We walked that was as the ship's ramp closed.

Through the automatic sliding door was a hallway. It was all blue and metal with more doors at regular intervals. At the far end was one of these doors, except this one was different. It had an "X" across it, and at the center of the "X" was a small blue circle.

"What's that?" I asked Kitty, pointing to the door.

Kitty looked down the hall and her face fell. "Cerebro," she mumbled. "The Professor could use that to connect with anyone's mind on the planet. You need to be a powerful psychic to be able to use it."

"Why?" I asked.

"You need a certain level of control. For any lesser psychic it could be dangerous, to them and everyone else."

She turned away from the door, through a protruding, cylindrical one. Alex and Iceman followed.

"Meg." Storm called me from down the hallway. She gestured for me to follow her. The protruding door closed around Alex, Kitty, and Iceman, leaving my only option to be following Storm. She led me down the opposite end of the hall, through another sliding door. This one opened up into a sort of medical room. Two beds lay ready.

Storm had me sit up on one of the beds as she looked over my hand. She gently prodded it, careful of the knuckles that were already swollen.

"Kitty thinks there are two broken," I said.

Storm laughed. "Kitty would know all about them," she replied. "I think she's right." Storm sighed and looked up to my face. "I could put a cast on it, or I could put a brace on it. But if we do the brace, you have to promise you'll wear if faithfully until I tell you to stop, okay?"

I nodded quickly. "Okay."

"The good thing, it doesn't look like the knuckles are out of alignment, so I'm just going to have you ice it for a bit, then we can stick it in a brace, give you some pain medication, and see how you go from there. Sound good?"

"Yep."

Storm gave me an ice pack to put over my hand for the swelling. It felt good. The injury was beginning to feel hot over the second and third knuckles that I'd broke. As I iced, Storm worked on adjusting the brace so that it would fit my hand. It went down, just past my wrist, and immobilized my knuckles. I probably wouldn't be able to write all that well with my hand.

After icing it, Storm fitted the brace. I'd been right. I couldn't even bend the hand, let alone write with it. I would be a lefty for a while. She then had me take two ibuprofen and we walked back to the protruding door together.

"After your hand heals, we'll teach you how to throw a proper punch," Storm promised.

"You said Kitty would know all about broken knuckles. How come?"

"Well, Kitty knows all about broken bones in general," Storm replied. "When she was first learning to control her power, she would sometimes crash into walls, or she would try and go through something and find her foot or her hand didn't make it. Kitty has probably spent more time in that infirmary than all the other kids combined."

I grinned. I couldn't help it. I know laughing about another's injuries isn't nice, but I had a comedic picture of Kitty half in, half out of a wall. Storm seemed to understand too.

We stepped inside the protruding door. Storm hit a button on the panel next to the door and I felt the distinct motion of an elevator going up. So that's what this room was.

The door opened again, but it was to a very different place. The walls were paneled in dark wood; the hallways were long and decorated with paintings. All the windows were tall and framed with thick curtains. I half expected to see a suit of armor standing in an alcove. We'd gone from high-tech, to almost medieval manor in the span of maybe five seconds.

"This is the school," Storm said. "Down below is almost like the 'bat cave'. It's dedicated entirely to the X-men. Above it is the school. It's our public face. Professor Xavier built the school for mutants. It's a place where you won't be judged and you won't be feared. Everyone here is just like you."

As she said this, a group of kids around my age descended the wide stairway. One of them wasn't actually carrying his bag on his shoulder, but rather just behind him, in mid air. Another looked like he was ready to take off _into_ the air. He jumped down the last six stairs and didn't actually hit the floor until his friends were all the way down. I watched them disappear around the corner.

Storm had been watching my expression. "See?" she asked when I finally turned back to her.

"Where's Alex?" I asked.

"I asked Bobby and Kitty to show him around and get him something to eat. You must be hungry too."

Right on queue, my stomach rumbled. I hadn't really liked the police food. Even though it was still really early in the morning, I was famished. Storm smiled and walked me down the hallways. As she went, she pointed out different things to help me find my way in the school. She explained the general layout.

"The classes are typically on the bottom floor, along with the kitchen, the dining room, and the common room. Upstairs, the students are usually housed in dorms of three or four, sometimes with single beds and sometimes with bunk beds. We keep girls with girls and boys with boys, of course. But we try to mix up the ages a bit. That way the older students are able to help the younger ones."

Storm talked on as we walked and I looked around. The school seemed pretty crowded. Groups of mutants, not all just kids, walked around us. Both kids and adults looked preoccupied, worried, or scared. Some looked a combination of all three! This might be a school for mutants, but they were still under the law. I could see most of them had the registration bands already. The handful that didn't looked even more concerned than those that did. The atmosphere in the air wasn't nearly as safe as I thought it would be.

And I could tell Storm knew this. She hadn't relaxed since I'd first seen her on the jet, but she was home now. She should seem relieved and relaxed, safe. Not tensed and ready for a fight. Not in her own safe haven. This Xavier's school wasn't like I'd expected. Something had happened, and I would bet my life that it was connected to Alcatraz.

**Hey guys! It's your author Wish here!**

**So I know there are a couple of you guys who really like this story, and i know that if you are on this site, it's because you aren't satisfied with just the story the author has written. So i'm making an offer to you now.**

**I will be posting a new chapter in this story, hopefully soon. For that chapter, if you guys review (logged on of course) i will send you a special one-shot entitled "incident". It's all about Alex, and what happened the day his mutation turned up. It's something fun i wrote to help me get to know the character better and the relationship he has with his sister, Meg!**

**So for the next chapter, if you give me a review and then put in a P.S. saying you want "Incident" i will send it to you via PM as a special offer.**

**I hope to have the new chapter up soon and i can't wait to hear what you guys think!**

**-Wish**


	7. Chapter 7: Mutant High

Chapter 7: Mutant High

After my stomach was handled, Storm decided to take me to find a dorm. She led my upstairs to the second floor.

"This hallway is mostly the girls' dormitories," Storm said. "I'm going to put you in with Sam Royer and Ellie Cummings. Each room can fit four, so you may be getting another roommate, if someone new comes."

"Okay," I said. Storm paused in front of the door. It was confusing. All the doors I'd seen so far had been the same as the wall. The only way I could tell it was a door was by the door knob. It was confusing.

"The bathrooms are just down the hallway. Fresh clothes should be on your bed. We estimated your size by your height and weight from the mutant database."

I automatically looked down at the band on my wrist, and then to Storm's wrist. I couldn't tell if she was registered or not. She still wore her X-men uniform and it had gloves and long sleeves. Storm seemed to understand what I was looking for though, because she pulled her glove off and rolled the sleeve up to reveal a band just like mine.

"We may not always agree with the government, but we like to abide by the law, mostly."

"Is everyone here registered?" I asked.

"Not all," Storm admitted. "But most. And we encourage those who aren't to do so."

"Well you don't have to worry about that," I told her. "The Police made Alex register."

"We figured as much." Storm turned to the dormitory door. She knocked, just loud enough for someone inside to hear. A few seconds later, a girl in plaid pyjama pants and a t-shirt with shoulder-length blonde hair opened the door.

"Storm?" she asked. "Er, I mean, Miss Munroe?"

"It's fine, Sam," Storm assured the girl. "This is Megan Miles," she gestured my way. "She's going to be your and Ellie's new roommate."

The girl, Sam, looked at me. "Uh, sure," she said. "Come on in." She stepped back, letting me walk through.

"See you girls at breakfast," Storm said. She smiled and left, heading back towards the stairs. Her caped back disappeared from my view as Sam closed the door.

Inside the room were two bunk beds. The bottom two seemed occupied. A girl sat up in one. I assumed she was Ellie. She wore a tank top that said "Chicks Rule" with a picture of a baby chicken. Her black hair was tied back in a ponytail.

"Who're you?" she asked, bluntly.

"This is Megan Miles," Sam answered. "She's our new roommate."

Ellie seemed to perk up a bit. "I was wondering who the new clothes are for," Ellie commented. "But nobody was talking about it when they handled the clothing."

"Rotten luck, really," Sam said. "But it's cool."

Ellie shrugged and got up. "What time is it?" she asked. I looked down at my watch.

"5 AM," I answered. Then the time caught up with me. I'd been up for the entire night, plus for the afternoon. I yawned, covering my mouth automatically with my right hand.

"What happened to your hand?" Sam asked.

"Oh, I, er, broke it. Long story."

"Does it have anything to do with the X-men?" Sam asked.

"I'd rather not talk about it," I replied.

They shrugged. "Okay. So what can you do?" Sam asked.

I didn't reply, just focused hard and disappeared. Taking the brace with me was harder.

"Who!" Ellie exclaimed, her sleepy eyes going wide. "That's awesome!"

I returned visible and asked, "What can you do?"

"Well I can read the past off objects. Like I did with the clothing," Ellie explained. "But I can only see what happens to people when they are touching the fabric, so I'm limited. The experts call it Psychometry."

"That's really cool!" I told her. "Still!"

"Thanks. The register calls me 'Longshot', but I don't like it. The dork at the table read too many comics. Longshot was a dude-cyborg with Multiple Personality Disorder anyways! I'm just Ellie Cummings."

"Ellie," I repeated. "They call me 'Shadow', but I usually go by Meg."

Ellie smiled, and then looked to Sam.

Sam looked back at her and then to me. "Let me put it this way," Sam said. "My codename is 'Sandstorm'. Think of one of those and you've got what I can do."

I thought about it. A sandstorm was sudden, extremely windy, and damaging, even deadly. "So you _create_ sandstorms?"

"Basically," Sam replied. "There's a big scientific breakdown to what I do, but I don't really feel like giving it."

I shrugged. "Fair enough."

Ellie laughed and both Sam and I stared at her.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I think you'll fit in fine."

I honestly didn't know what to think of Ellie or Sam. They seemed nice enough.

"Well I'm not going back to sleep," Sam said. "Minds well get ready."

We all went down to the showers at the end of the corridor, meeting only one girl as she walked back. She had an interesting look. Vines seemed to be moving in a twisting pattern over her skin. They looked like tattoos, except they moved, like they were alive. And she had plant-green hair.

"Hey Ivy," Ellie greeted her.

"Morning Ellie," Ivy murmured as she passed. She'd seen me staring, I was sure of it. But her appearance was so startling. It was obvious she was a mutant. I'd never really met a mutant like that, where it was obvious just by looking at them.

"It's okay to look," Sam murmured to me. "Ivy knows most of the new kids haven't seen mutants like her, where the mutation has changed their physical appearance completely. It's rare, but we have a few here like it. She is sometimes a little self-conscious about it with strangers, but once she gets to know you and you get to know her, you'll hardly notice."

"I don't doubt," I replied.

We showered and I changed into the clothes that had been left for me. The jeans and grey sweater fit perfectly. They also gave me a jacket, but I didn't need that inside the school. But the time we were finished, more people were up and starting their own days. I saw Kitty in the girl's dorm hallway and Bobby and Colossus on the stairs. Alex was walking with a boy his age with blond hair. He seemed happy, laughing with the boy. Sam saw my gaze and followed it to find its subject.

"Who's that?" Sam asked. Ellie followed Sam's sight and spotted Alex as well.

"Another new kid?" she suggested.

"He's my little brother," I answered.

"Huh. Really?" Ellie inquired. "He doesn't look anything like you."

"That's because of my mutation. Before I had the same hair and eyes. But his eyes are changing now."

"Wow," Sam said. "I would've never guessed. You look like you were _born_ this way."

I shrugged as I paused in the main hallway. Ellie and Sam both looked down the hall, hesitatingly.

"Uh, we haven't had breakfast yet," Ellie explained. "And then we have classes so..."

"Meg, there you are." I spun around to find Storm coming down the hall towards me. Except this time she wasn't in her X-uniform, but a pair of dark-wash jeans, a fitted, grey button-down shirt, and a pair of black, heeled boots. She looked sort of odd in street clothes, especially after I was getting used to seeing her in her X-men gear. She draped an arm over my shoulder and began steering me back the way she'd come. "Let's get your classes sorted out, shall we?"

"See ya later, Meg," Ellie called, Sam echoing her. I didn't get to say anything as Storm gestured me into an office of some sort. There was a desk and a wall of books, as well as a row of about fifteen or so chairs arrayed in a circle around the desk. Just behind it was a rolling chalkboard on which was written Spanish verb conjugations.

Storm must've seen me looking, confused, at the chairs because she gestured to the board. "All of us adults are also teachers here. It's part of how we are able to keep the school running with not every student paying tuition." Storm sat down behind the desk and gestured for me to take one of the seats in front of it.

"So, Meg, why don't you tell me what you were studying in school before you left?"

Together Storm and I came up with a schedule of classes based on what was being taught at the school and what I had already been learning. I would be put in with the older students like Bobby, Kitty, and Colossus (whose real name I learned was Piotr). My first class would be Chemistry with Kurt Wagner. Storm gave me the schedule and a small map of the mansion and sent me on my way.

I got lost, of course. I had a map, but somehow I ended up getting turned around. Only after I asked a passing boy who looked around Alex's age did I find out I was in the complete wrong wing of the building. Lucky for me, he gave me easy directions and I was able to find the proper science lab only five minutes late.

Stepping inside, I was nervous. Being new and late meant drawing a lot of attention, and I didn't like to do that. I hadn't liked to do that even _before _I found out about my mutation. My head down, I paused by the door.

"Yes, can I help you?" The voice had a thick German accent but sounded friendly enough.

I looked up and was surprised to see yet _another_ mutant where their mutation had a physical manifestation. Kurt Wagner was _blue_! And he had a tail that swung lazily behind him. He also had weird hands (I don't think he had five fingers!) and his teeth looked sharp. The overall appearance was that of a blue demon-type character.

'_What can _he_ do?'_ I wondered. "Er, yeah, I'm Megan Miles, St—er, Miss Munroe assigned me to this class?"

"Excellent," Kurt Wagner replied. "You may take a seat with Pietro." Kurt Wagner gestured to a boy sitting at a lab table alone. All the others that had people sitting at them were full.

"Thanks." I hurried over and sat down next to Pietro, nodding to him politely. He smiled back briefly and then turned back to Kurt, who had continued lecturing.

It didn't take long to find out what Kurt's, sorry Mr. Wagner's, mutation was (beyond the blue-devil look). He needed to check out a page in the textbook, and rather than walking across the room to get it, he simply vanished in a puff of blue smoke and reappeared across the room, leaning over the book with his glasses on.

"Whoa," I breathed.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Pietro asked.

"Yeah."

Pietro smiled and reached a hand across the table. "People call me Quicksilver."

"Meg," I replied. "But if you wanted my codename, it's Shadow."

"Shadow, what's your mutation?"

"I can turn invisible."

"Cool," Quicksilver replied, nodding. "So what are you, class three?"

"Four," I replied. "There's more to it but it takes too long to explain."

Quicksilver shrugged. "Fair enough."

"So what's your mutation. Please tell me it's something with speed."

"Yes. I can move at the speed of sound."

"That's pretty good. So I guess the morning routine doesn't take long."

"Nope," Quicksilver grinned. "Can do the whole thing in five minutes."

"Five?" That seemed kind of long, if he could move at the speed of sound.

"Well, the stomach doesn't take too kindly to eating that fast. I learned that the hard way the first time I was late for class."

"Oo, I'm sorry." I couldn't really imagine it, but it didn't sound nice.

"Yeah, so was I."

There was a soft sort of crack and the smell of sulphur. I looked back and jumped as I came face to face with Mr. Wagner. "Is there something you would like to share?" he asked both of us.

"No, Mr. Wagner," Quicksilver replied.

"Then please save this conversation for after class." There was another crack and the sulphur and this time I saw the blue smoke when Mr. Wagner disappeared and reappeared at the front of the room again.

"Sorry," Quicksilver apologized in a whisper when Mr. Wagner's back was turned towards the class.

"It's cool," I replied. We focused on the lecture again after that.

It was different having a teacher like Mr. Wagner, to say the least. He didn't seem to have any problem with using his mutation in front of the class, like it was an everyday occurrence to just teleport across the room, rather than walking. But, I guess for him it _was_ an everyday occurrence. After class Quicksilver practically appeared next to me as I was leaving. I assumed he'd used his power because when I'd last left him he was still packing up his books.

"So how'd you like your first class at Mutant High?" he asked.

"Well this guy got me in trouble for talking during class," I teased.

"How rude!" Quicksilver declared. "Who was it? I'll give him a piece of my mind!"

I laughed as Quicksilver then went on to berate himself for distracting me during class. It was quite funny as he kept flitting back and forth when he changed "perspectives".

"What's your next class?"

"Um, power training with Thomas Andrews," I read.

"Oh, that'll be on the other side of the school. I'm going that direction, I could escort you," Quicksilver offered.

"Uh, sure. Just go slow."

He sighed, "If you insist."

We walked down the corridors, talking more. Quicksilver asked me where I was from and about my family. I told him about Alex and his mutation and a few of the events leading up to coming to Professor Xavier's.

"That's some tough stuff," Quicksilver admitted. "But I know where you're coming from. I have a sister who's a mutant too."

"Is she here?"

"No," he replied. He paused outside a door that didn't seem much different than any other door in the hallway. "This is it."

"Really? How can you tell?"

"You'll just figure it out eventually. It's hard at first."

"Yeah, I'll say," I agreed.

"I have to get to my next class. See you later?"

"Sure," I replied, waving as he headed off, a little faster than a normal speed. I turned back to the door and opened it, relieved that I wasn't late like last time. I stepped inside and found an office with a few chairs pushed up against the wall. It reminded me of Storm's office, how it had doubled as a classroom. There were two other students there already and they both looked at me, curious. But I just smiled and took one of the seats by the wall. After a few moments the door to the office opened again and the teacher, Thomas Andrews, stepped in.

"Good morning," he said to the two students. His back was turned to me, but there was something familiar about him. Only when he turned my way did I understand why.

"_Tom_?" I gasped.

**A/N: Hello. I'm sorry it's been so long but to be honest, things with the story have been really slow. I had this chapter partially completed for the longest time and then tonight I just got on the computer and finished it. I honestly don't know why it took so long and I can't promise a prompt chapter to follow, but I'm going to try. Thank you for reading this one, even after I abandoned you guys for half a year.**

**-Wish**

6


	8. Author

**A/N: Important**

**Due to unforseeable, personal circumstances, I will be unable to update any of my stories, probably until May at least. Therefore, I'm placing everything on a temporary hiatus. I hate doing this but right now the decision is out of my hands. If I am able to, I will try to update sporadically, but I do not expect I will be able to.**

**I am sorry for disappointing all of you and I hope that, come May, you will give me another chance.**

**-Wish**

**P.S. I must also ask that you do not PM me with questions about updates. Questions about story details and plots are still welcome, though. Again, I am sorry.**


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